Hymns
by DoubleMMia
Summary: "You want to know where the Champion is Seeker? I'm not the one to tell you about her, but there may be someone who can. Listen well Seeker, Rivaini would want her tale told well." Through the eyes of Isabela and how she shaped Hawke. F!Hawke/Isabela
1. Chapter 1

**Story Summary: "You want to know where the Champion is Seeker? I'm not the one to tell you about her, but there may be someone who can. Listen well Seeker, Rivaini would want her tale told well." Based mainly through the eyes of Isabela and how she shaped the Champion. F!Hawke/Isabela**

**Chapter 1**

It was too late at night for anyone sane to be awake, but still Isabela was curious on a certain subject that had been plaguing her mind for some time.

She swirled the swill in her mug slowly, forcing herself to drink and swallow in one gulp; smacking her lips when the liquid finally trailed down her throat. There was no point drinking such ale in small mouthfuls - as Hawke did whenever she came by with Varric - when it was such an awful drink.

"Alright, we're done here!" Coriff (or was it Corff? She could never remember) yelled, banging his fist on the counter a few feet away from her and her drink. "Closing up now! To your respectable rooms if yer please!"

It was now or never.

Isabela leant leisurely against the counter of the Hanged Man, making sure that she was in clear view of Corff so that the bartender wouldn't dismiss her amber eyes glancing at him with interest.

He may have only met Hawke a few times, but surely that was enough times to allow Hawke's first name to slip in between conversation between the two?

"Corff," Isabela tested with a low, teasing voice - enough to attract a man such as Corff's attention anyhow. "You know Hawke, right? That rather _intimidating_, dark-haired woman who comes here with Varric?"

Luckily her gaze had managed to win Corff over in a heartbeat and to her complete, utter delight he had abandoned his post of clearing everyone else out to solely focus on her.

"Hawke? Yeah, yeah I know 'er." Corff responded gruffly, raking a hand through his blonde locks. "Hey, don't you follow 'er around too? What's with the questions?"

Seeing distrust start to creep into Corff's eyes, Isabela quickly turned the tables around by merely giving the bartender a warm smile; going as far to even rest her cheek in the palm of her hand - feigning interest.

"Just curious on what you know about her Corff," she raised her empty mug to her lips to hide her smile. "_Like_, what's her name for one?"

Corff gave her a look that to Isabela reminded her of the time when she wrestled with the captain of the Silent Seas for dominance in nothing but cream and mustard. And that look was of disbelief. "You ain't normally the one to be interested with names!"

"I'm just curious sweet thing," Isabela drawled with a tilt of her head, feeling irritation start to claw at her. Why would nobody just give her a straight yes or no answer? "She's a companion but she has such a _cold, cold _soul that she never talks to someone amazing as myself half the time! And why not? I am the wonderful 'Captain' Isabela-"

"Previously captain," Corff pointed out with a wary smile. He knew very well how Isabela got when she was tired and sober at the same time; it wasn't pretty that was for sure.

Isabela scoffed, slamming down her mug with a snort. "Yes, yes, yes…Previously Captain Isabela, thank you ever so much for reminding me! _No_ really, you're a giver."

Corff grunted lowly at her, choosing to take her mug from her hands and to clean it with a rag as he stared intently at her. Questioningly. "Hawke a friend to you then? Or a _friend?_"

Unable to stop herself, Isabela laughed heartily at the bartender's implication, throwing her head back and curling her fingers around the hard edge of the counter so she wouldn't fall over.

"A _friend?_" She continued to laugh at Corff's suggestion, feeling light-headed and loving it. "Oh I think Hawke would rather bathe herself in a river of blood than be a _friend._ And why not? I've heard it's good for the skin."

"Listen love, I really need to close up now otherwise Fredrick over there will start harassing Norah all bloody night." Corff said with a sigh, completely ignoring her attempts to once more catch his attention. "Oi Fredrick! Keep your hands to yourself! Hit him with the mug Norah! The _mug!"_

Isabela held back her sigh of frustration at the rather severe lack of answers she was receiving today from almost everyone she asked. If this was what it was going to be like all night, she'd probably just go ask Hawke herself and not bother trying to get Corff's attention again.

Still, it was rather late and there was no point trying to get any sleep tonight with how she was feeling; awake, irritated and for some odd reason, excited. Maybe it was something in the water? Though she hadn't drank water in a very long time.

"Pass the mug will you?" Isabela grinned sultrily at the blonde bartender, taking his silence as an answer and grasping her mug back with a firm grip and a wink.

She silently passed through the wave of drunken men and women towards the door where some poor souls _were_ actually stumbling out on the street; holding out her mug far enough that when she passed the offensive drunk patron known as Fredrick, the mug instantly smacked straight into the back of his head - sending him sprawling to the ground.

With a smug laugh, Isabela mock saluted in the direction where she had just come from. "Don't bother staying open, I'll get back in somehow!"

Right now, she was off to find Hawke and traumatize the woman into telling her the true name everyone in the group had been dying to hear.

* * *

Hawke let a sigh escape her chapped lips, wetting them with her tongue to try and warm them up against the harsh, cold weather that did nothing but make her draw her cloak around her more tightly.

As usual, she was keeping watch on the shack of a house for Gamlen as the rest of her family slept.

It was her nightly routine, sometimes she'd see Brennan stalking through the streets of Lowtown, sometimes she'd see Aveline and sometimes she'd even see Fenris (though she refrained herself from calling out to the elf) but never in her life had she seen so many gangs as she had tonight.

The reason why she kept watch was to make sure nobody broke in to Gamlen's home, she didn't quite know why Gamlen didn't find a bodyguard or an old friend or someone to at least keep an eye on his home or live with him for a while.

"_Do I look like I'm made of coin, girl?" _He had snarled at her when she had asked that question in particular. _"I can barely fend for myself, never mind have to pay someone else for looking after me!" _

In return she had growled low under her breath, murmuring angrily. _"Andraste's ass, how did you not manage to get robbed?"_ It had of course been unfair of her to have been angry at him (after everything he had done for her, Carver and Mother) but still, _manners_ didn't cost much.

"_I did." _Oh. Well. That was settled then.

A sharp snapping sound broke her away from the memory and she jumped up with a snarl, swinging her staff out in front of her in case any attacker decided to launch themselves at her.

Hawke felt her heart steady somewhat when she found out that instead of meeting a thug of some sort, she instead met nothing but thin air and a cat that was content to meow pleasantly at her - most likely wondering if she was going to hit it with her staff.

"Just a cat," she said breathily with a chuckle; feeling silly at being so worked up over a mere sound which turned out to be just an animal lurking. Still, it was better than turning around and seeing a knife in your face. "Not an abomination, ninja, dog lover, urchin…A cat."

And then before she could react, she felt the sharp point of a dagger being pressed gently into her back - a painful pinch at the swell of her shoulder blades.

"Well _meow_, sweet thing!"

It was as if she had been punched in the gut at the surprise that shrouded her in mere seconds, feeling like her world was spinning and that her head was aching with such uneasiness it made her quiver in shock.

Yet the voice was familiar, ridiculously so, and it brought her enough frustration that she swung herself around once more; growling angrily when she came face-to-face with a laughing Isabela.

"What in Maker's name do you think you're doing Isabela?" Hawke found herself snarling in aggravation, stabbing the blade of her staff in a soft spot on the ground where she had been sitting on her watch. "I could have stabbed you right through the middle if you hadn't of ducked!"

To her annoyance, Isabela merely chuckled and spun the blade she had been using around her finger; clearly unfazed at what had occurred.

"Really Hawke you're far too predictable," Isabela cooed in that voice Hawke had grown strangely familiar with, if somewhat uncomfortable with. "Even if you had wanted to kill me, you wouldn't have been able to!"

In response Hawke simply rolled her eyes, planting herself down next to her staff with a grunt.

Isabela shot her an amused look, arching a fine brow questioningly at the next to penniless refugee. "What are you even doing out here? Shouldn't you be-"

"Shouldn't you be laying face down in a ditch by now?" Hawke interrupted coldly, her dark hair shielding her striking blue eyes away from the former captain. "Surely the tavern can't be closed by now."

"You would think so wouldn't you?" Isabela remarked with a grin, placing both of her daggers back in their respectful sheathes. "But no, Corff closed up early and I was out here looking for you anyway! It's been such a long time since we last talked Hawke!"

"We talked just before I left the Hanged Man," Hawke responded gruffly, raking her hand through her coarse dark locks to try and calm herself. It was strange guarding a shack with company, she had to be more alert than usual. "You said you were going to play something called Strip Diamondsback."

"Ah yes! Funny story that! Well, there was this man named John and he started to unbutton his pants and when he dropped-"

"Isabela!" Hawke interrupted with a disgruntled hiss, moving her face away so that the former captain couldn't see her expression. "What do you want from me? I'm supposed to be keeping watch!"

"Well now sweet thing," Isabela murmured sultrily, planting herself next to the refugee with a grin. "Why do you think I want something from you? I could be merely looking for some company."

Hawke scoffed, gripping harder onto the wood of her staff. "I'm not a public whorehouse Isabela, go to the Rose or something and quit pestering me."

Isabela feigned a sob, placing a hand over her heart to emphasise her emotions even more; it was enough to make Hawke want to smack her one. "Oh, I'm hurt! You think I'd try to bed you?"

With a click of her tongue, Isabela nudged Hawke firmly in the ribs, giggling wickedly. "You're damn right! But still, another time sweet thing. I came here to ask you a very important question."

"No." Hawke said bluntly, turning away from the former captain with another irritated growl.

Isabela instantly threw her arms up in the air, unimpressed. "Hey! You haven't even heard what I was going to ask!"

The grip Hawke held on her staff got noticeably tighter, so tight it looked as if Hawke was going to snap the wood in two. "I don't need to Isabela, it's already a no."

For the first time since she had met Isabela, Hawke heard the smuggler give a huge sigh; a huge enough sigh that it actually made her turn back to see that Isabela was pouting (in a not so subtle way) at her.

"And all I wanted to know was your name…" Isabela murmured in such a fake demure voice that Hawke actually found herself laughing slightly under her breath at how pathetic it was.

"What? You think I'm going to tell you my real name just because you bat your lashes at me?" Hawke let a small smirk grace her lips, tugging her legs from under her so she could rest her elbows on her knees. "If I were that easy I'd probably be a walking human disease."

"I don't bat my lashes sweetie, if I bat anything then it'll be my -" Isabela started, a sinful look appearing on her face when once more Hawke interrupted her with a groan.

"If you're so interested about learning my real name, how about telling me yours?" Hawke snapped impatiently, trying to get her mind back on track so she'd be able to keep watch much more efficiently. "Because you are obviously not called Isabela. That alone is obvious."

In return Isabela shrugged and rearranged her necklace. "And how do you know I'm not called Isabela? What did you expect me to be called? Sally Sparrow? Though I do have this cousin called Jack, but we don't talk much. Said I stole his rum and woman, balls to that."

"So," Hawke drawled, letting go off her staff to cup her chin; staring at the former captain with undeniable curiosity. "You expect me to tell you my name, but you don't expect me to know your own?"

"I've told you my name Hawke," Isabela shot back with another smirk that Hawke knew she could not understand without giving herself head trauma. "It's not my fault you don't believe me. Besides! How bad could your name be? Unless it's something you call a child who you want to be murdered horrifically. Like Scott Chegg."

"Scott Chegg?" Hawke murmured softly, tearing herself away from watching the streets to stare at the pirate in confusion.

"Long story sweetie, you'll understand later on." Isabela teased with another laugh, throwing herself back so she was resting on her elbows. "Now, tell me! I'm curious! Varric knows but he refuses to tell me! Who else knows?"

Hawke got up from her sitting position, unable to sit any longer with Isabela bothering her watch. Maker's breath, it was getting hard to remain comfortable with Isabela around; watching her with amber eyes that made her shiver and twitch nervously.

Stupid pirate wench.

"Why are you bothered about who knows my real name? It's not as if it matters!" Hawke barked furiously, gripping onto her staff and digging her blade further into the soft ground. "I don't like my real name anyway. If I told you then you'd never be able to use it, so what's the point?"

"Oh who cares?" Isabela yelled with rising frustration that only one could be capable of if their answers had been denied almost all day. "I'll even make a deal with you! You tell me your name, I bugger off and leave you alone to your stick-in-the-mud duties. How about that?"

Hawke was tempted. Despite how her mouth was desperately trying to tell Isabela where she could shove her so-called deal, but of course that was where she was at fault. Because Isabela's deal wasn't so bad, even if that meant the former captain knowing her true name; it couldn't be so bad.

So she agreed. "Fine. If I tell you. Then you _never_ call me it in front of anyone! Ever."

Isabela cocked her head at her with an impish glint in her eye, teeth unnaturally white and gleaming in the darkness of Lowtown. "Of course Hawke, _whatever you_ _say!_"

"I mean it Isabela!" Hawke retorted seriously, lowering her eyes when amber eyes tortured her icy blue. "If I find out you've told anyone or if you say it when we're walking around then…"

Hawke didn't have time to finish before Isabela had grabbed her by the collar, forcing her lips around the pirate's ear by the close proximity Isabela had placed her in.

The refugee felt a little bit self-conscious, what with her hot breath on Isabela's skin and all; something that she was sure she wouldn't be getting used to anytime soon. Still, if Isabela wanted to know and had promised to leave her alone…

She whispered her name softly into Isabela's ear, feeling the soft skin brush against her chapped lips ever so slightly and how the pirate seemed to laugh under her breath at the touch instead of reeling from it.

When Isabela pushed her away with a snort (rather _rudely_) Hawke couldn't help but cross her arms and pout out her lower lip, narrowing her eyes further when the pirate continued to laugh.

"I don't see what's so funny. It's a perfectly normal name!" Hawke insisted, feeling a bit put out really. Sure her name wasn't a 100% common name, but it hadn't been her idea!

"You're named after a bird! Both of your names are after birds!" Isabela snorted with a cocky laugh, getting up from off her elbows to giggle hysterically. "I just find that a tiny bit amusing, sweet thing."

"Oh go away Isabela," Hawke scoffed in exasperation, throwing her head back to stare up at the dark night; attempting to distract herself away from the insipid pirate. "You said you wanted to know my name. I've told you. Now go find a ditch and fall in it."

'_Normal people,' _Hawke thought bitterly after a wave of silence passed between them both, '_would hit me at this point_.'

In replacement of being hit, Hawke merely saw (and heard) Isabela click her tongue at her, getting up from where she had been sitting to run a hand through her already wind-swept hair.

This action made her growl impatiently, ice blue eyes narrowing up at Isabela's composed form. It unnerved her.

"Alright then, I'll see you soon Hawke," again Hawke felt the pirate's fingers run through her hair again, before she heard the sound of footsteps walking away. It was a blessing. "Don't work too hard now, eh Phoenix?"

Phoenix Hawke grounded her teeth, hard. Forcing her frustration into the essence of her magic, allowing it to weave and replenish from the tips of her fingertips; slowly developing what she knew to be fire in the pit of her palm.

She clenched her hand closed at hearing a high-pitched laugh, dispersing the fire immediately.

That woman was going to be the _death_ of her.

* * *

"_Dwarf! Why are you telling me this? This doesn't tell me anything important I know about the champion!" _

"_You want to know the Champion? You're going to have to know Isabela first."_

* * *

_=] So I tried to do the Isabela rivalry romance. Found out that Isabela thinks my Hawke is the best thing since sliced cheese when I played my Hawke the way I had planned to. So I guess we're in a friendly romance. XD Strange. Anyway, yeah. Isabela in the game is really, really fun. In a way that makes me cry ;_; I'm finding it hard to romance Merrill because she's JUST THERE. I'm like '-pout-' all the way through the Merrill romance. I actually think Merrill is cute and adorable too. D:_

_She's just no Isabela. 8D_

_Confused on this chapter? You'll just have to read the second one then. :D _


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Varric smiled smugly and readjusted himself in the chair he sat on, feeling his smugness warp into something that made his chin rise a bit higher than before. "Why the interruption Seeker? Am I not telling you what you wanted to hear? I assure you, it's nothing but the truth."

Cassandra's grip on the book she had taken away from him got noticeably tighter and to Varric it looked like the Seeker was going to toss the book at him again; it wouldn't surprise him if she did.

"Dwarf! Why are you telling me this? This doesn't tell me anything important I know about the Champion!"

The Seeker slammed the book she had been holding face down onto the arm of the chair Varric was sitting comfortably on, the dim light that shone on her dark skin making the dwarf once more chuckle throatily at how worked up Cassandra was.

"You want to know the Champion? You'll need to know about Isabela first," Varric responded huskily, reaching into his coat pocket and withdrawing a simple skin of wine to sip at as he talked. "Because hey, Rivaini was one of the main people Hawke based her actions around."

The Seeker who had been interrogating him thoroughly for what felt like hours turned to glare at him, her dark eyes enough to make a shiver of ice run through his chest at her gaze. "A _pirate_ was the one who The Champion based her actions around?"

"Ah Seeker, you're not listening to my words properly!" Varric boomed with another laugh, taking a long hard sip from his skin of wine. "Rivaini was the one who shaped the Champion! You all hear legends about a hero shaping the people who they command? Well, try a different tale, eh?"

"I'm not interested in a tale of the romantic story between a pirate from Rivain and a refugee who most likely caused the end of the chantry as we know it!" Cassandra hissed with narrowed eyes, picking up the book again from the arm of Varric's chair and rummaging through the contents viciously. "I want to know about Hawke! The apostate who started this! How did she do this! Why?"

Seeing that the Seeker was starting to become more hysterical than before, Varric raised both of his hands in a more than likely insane attempt to try and calm the situation down. "Now, now Seeker. Let's not be hasty shall we? All I'm saying is that Rivaini may be the one who can help you find Hawke, if you know more about her that is!"

Varric knew at that moment he may have said the wrong thing entirely.

"_Wait_, you're saying that Isabela knows where the Champion is?" Cassandra had gotten unnervingly closer to him; dark eyes blazing with determined fire. "Tell me where she is dwarf! Or so help me I'll-"

"As I said!" To Varric, this interrogation was much worse than watching Hawke fight the Arishok from afar. Less painful maybe, but more slow and frustrating. "Where am I supposed to get Isabela from Seeker? Get her from a hat? I have no idea where she is!"

"You just give me more and more reasons not to believe this tale, dwarf." Cassandra murmured suspiciously, every muscle in her face tensing into a doubtful scowl. "Why would you tell me about this when there is nothing to your tale that makes sense? Isabela came with the Champion from Lothering!"

"No, no, no Seeker! Why don't you listen to me?" Varric sighed in frustration, reaching once more into his coat pocket to get out his mother's hand stitched handkerchief and dabbing it on his brow. "You haven't even let me explain about why Isabela was there! She didn't come with Hawke! Well, depends on how you look at it I guess, heh."

"Varric, why lie now? The world will soon be at war and you're giving me false leads," Cassandra whispered solemnly, staring down harder at the pages of the book she held in her hand; desperately looking for answers within the pages. "If you know where Isabela is, then tell me! I beg of you dwarf, something I do not do willingly, if you know where Isabela is…"

Varric could feel his patience start to wear thin at Cassandra's pleas, feeling the hair at the back of his neck start to stand up on edge and for his fingers to tremble slightly at trying to hold himself back.

He wasn't angry at Cassandra exactly, but the harsh memories and the feeling of being alone for so long was enough to drive anyone insane.

"I'll make you a deal," he calmly said instead, shifting on his seat with a quirky smile. "If you listen to what I have to say about Rivaini, then I'll help you look for her."

"I'm not here for Isabela," Cassandra remarked with another weary sigh, sounding like she was pretty much ready to give up on life at this point. "But if she is our only lead to the Champion…Then continue your tale."

"Oh hold on a second," Varric interrupted himself with a dry cough, motioning towards Cassandra with a bold smile. "You do promise to let me go after, correct? And you _will_ let me finish the tale now won't you?"

"Unlike you Varric I'm not a compulsive liar," Cassandra replied with a curt nod of her head towards the dwarf. "Therefore, I will let you go once you've told me what I need to know."

"And what if I tell you something you don't particularly like?" Varric pushed, arranging himself again on his seat. "What then?"

"What would you want me to say, dwarf?" Cassandra retorted with a loathsome expression. "That I will hunt the rest of Thedas until I bring justice? I am not interested in results, but Hawke's methods."

"If you decide to kill Hawke then Isabela will not be the one to help you," Varric warned with a grimace, shaking his head sadly. "She'll put a dagger in your back before you even put a foot on her territory."

"A threat coming from you? You're either foolish or brave." Cassandra gripped tighter onto the hilt of her blade, hoping against hope that the dwarf wouldn't read through her bluff. "Which one do you think?"

Varric clapped his hands eagerly, bellowing a laugh. "Seeker! It's not a threat coming from me! If anything, it's a promise from Rivaini!"

"I don't care what Isabela promises, continue your tale before I lose my patience with you." Cassandra scolded, folding her arms in impatience. "And make sure it's the _truth_."

"When have I ever lied to you, Seeker?" Varric beamed, chuckling when Cassandra stomped her foot in exasperation.

"How the Champion did not murder you, I shall never know."

* * *

_Short chapter, but if I started the story straight from here people would just get confused I think. ;)  
__From now on there will be little Varric/Cassandra interaction and if there is, there will just be short bits that will add on._

_Ciao. ;P_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Isabela…"

At the soft murmur of her name, Isabela turned her head slightly to acknowledge the small, elven girl she had (in a way) taken in despite how different they both were.

"What is it kitten?" Isabela asked with a cheerful grin, gulping down the last remnants of what was in her mug. "You've been acting quite all day since we got back from The Wounded Coast."

Instead of looking at least a bit grateful at her concern, Merrill in fact looked like she had managed to stub her toe on a wall; that alone was something that immediately made Isabela's eyes narrow suspiciously.

"Well, you know Hawke better than anyone don't you?" Merrill started with an uncharacteristic confidence in her tone - something strange indeed when it came to talking about Hawke. "And I was wondering if you knew what to do when you want to thank someone for being your friend."

The pirate had to force herself not to do a spit-take at the knowledge Merrill had just given her.

"What? You think I know Hawke better than anyone? Think again kitten," Isabela responded with a smug chuckle, pushing her empty mug aside and drinking from a bottle that had been placed next to her soon after she had finished. "Hawke is too private for anyone to get to know her."

Merrill again pulled a confused face at her, sipping her mug of water in apprehension (despite how much Isabela tried to tell her, the young elf was still convinced that Corff put frog blood in the water to spice the flavour up ever since Varric had brought it up) while trying her hardest not to grimace. "But Varric told me you know her real name! I don't know her real name! Is it embarrassing? Is that why she doesn't tell me? Did I upset her? I always seem to manage to upset people without even knowing that I am!"

"Oh Merrill," Isabela chided with a roll of her eyes, laughing slightly under her breath when the younger girl turned to stare up at her with those big green eyes that were adorable enough to catch anyone's attention. "Hawke only told me because I was bugging her! Don't feel so put out! Here, I'll buy you another drink and I'll teach you how to play Wicked Grace."

"Isabela!" Merrill giggled and the pirate was pleased to see that the elf had finally started to look like her old self once more, but more gigglier which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. "Hawke might be looking for us! She said that today would be busy and you know how Hawke is like…"

"My bloody arse Merrill, Hawke this, Hawke that…" Isabela scoffed, wiping her mouth once she had managed to finish the bottle she had been drinking off. "Everyone needs to stop hanging onto her like a baby hanging onto its mother's tits, she's hardly our leader."

"But she is!" Merrill responded with demure smile, the smile gentle enough that it knocked Isabela off guard slightly. "Without her, none of us would have met each other! I wouldn't have met her mother Leandra, Carver, Aveline, Varric, Fenris, Anders and I wouldn't have even met you!"

At first Isabela merely blinked at Merrill, unable to comprehend if she thought Merrill was absolutely wrong or if she thought Merrill was the most cutest thing she had ever stumbled upon. She guessed it was the latter, just because all Merrill had to do was open her mouth and Isabela fell into a stupor that only happened to young girls when seeing kittens.

Instead, Isabela patted the top of Merrill's head with a shake of her head. "Kitten, you really need to stop being cute. It just makes you look more vulnerable and you know what that means don't you?"

Merrill fiddled with the cuffs of her robe, once more looking confused at Isabela's question. "No. What does it mean? Does it mean I have to start talking like Varric? I've been practicing!"

"No, no, no Kitten! Don't use the Varric voice again!" Isabela insisted with a strained smile, covering Merrill's mouth slightly with her hand. "Remember what happened last time? Dog got confused again on who you was and started humping your leg, so just in case he's nearby with Hawke - I wouldn't advise doing the 'voice'."

"I really do think Dog was just trying to give me a friendly greeting," Merrill persisted with a nod towards her left leg. "I mean, he tried to lick me afterwards too!"

Incapable of resisting the urge, Isabela threw her head back and laughed out loud; her fingers gripping onto the bottle she was holding to try and get a firm grip so she could balance herself properly. "Merrill, friendly greetings do not mean you hump someone's leg. Not without wine anyway, otherwise just run away. Far, far away."

"But what if they've forgot the wine?"

"Then just pretend you've left something at home. Or that you it's one of those _weeks_, you know?"

Isabela didn't bother trying to explain what she meant to Merrill this time, she just tapped the side of her head; signalling to the elf to think about it later. "It'll come to you Kitten, but for now we play Wicked Grace!"

No sooner had Isabela managed to get her deck of cards out the slit just inside her left boot, a hand was pressed onto her shoulder that was not really uncomfortable, but unfamiliar when it came to the harsh hours of the day.

And then a card was picked from the hand in her deck, something that Isabela again was not comfortable with - they were _her _cards after all.

She scrutinized it with narrowed eyes, reading the name of the card out loud. "Slave's Labour?" She hadn't known she had possessed that card; she had been so sure she had lost it in a game against that Grey Warden a year ago - well not lost, but she had certainly given it away, strange that it had somehow managed to work its way back into her deck.

"You know what that means don't you?" A gruff voice close to her ear made Isabela smirk at the familiar tone, so familiar that Isabela craned her neck to meet the icy blue hues of Hawke - who was still holding onto the card with a thoughtful expression on her features.

"Ah Hawke! We we're just talking about you!" Isabela chuckled ruefully, swiftly grabbing the card off the refugee. "I suppose you want something from me and Merrill don't you? You being the ever so busy person that you are."

"Games are not my forte Isabela," Hawke snapped with a roll of her eyes, shuffling her feet and taking a seat next to the bewildered Merrill. "Aveline asked me to find some worthy combatants to help train her men this afternoon in the barracks courtyard. Unfortunately for you, that means you're going to have to come along."

Isabela raised a brow at the refugee, surprised at her request as well as the newly appointed Guard Captain's. "What? Lady Man-Hands wants me to help train men? Guardsmen? Pft, no thank you! Those men are the ones who will be trained enough to _catch_ me!"

Hawke bit her lower lip and Isabela could just about see that refugee was getting frustrated by how her eyes seemed to go around the room, focusing on everything and anything that wasn't her. It was just _that_ easy to get Hawke wound up. "Isabela…Aveline said that she needed the guardsmen to be more, what's the word? _Varied_ in their skills and combat. We really need someone with your ability."

Again Isabela scoffed, crossing a leg over the other and leaning back more comfortably against her chair. "I already said no Hawke, besides I hear no talk of coin at doing this. No jingle jangle and what not! I think I'll be more entertained by staring at Fredrick over their piss himself every time Norah walks past him."

"Does he really do that?" Merrill piped up all of a sudden, however shrinking back into her silence when Hawke gazed at the elf with something that Isabela guessed to be shock. "Sorry."

"Yes! It's quite funny actually whenever Norah brushes his -"

"May I please put this conversation back on track?" Hawke interrupted with a cough, tapping her knuckles on the barrel to gain the attention she had lost. "Or do you wish to continue your conversation about Fredrick's bodily fluids?"

Images filled Isabela's head that she didn't in particular like very much, therefore she covered her mouth and made a retching sound that made Hawke's eyes widen slightly in what she gathered to be amusement. "Alright you're right. That conversation wasn't too appealing at all!" Isabela blinked hard, trying to remember what they had been talking about before.

"As I was saying," Hawke must have read the expression on her face, her being oh-so-clever and all. "There may be coin but not from the barracks. They need it more than you do anyway."

"What? I need coin too!" Isabela argued, feeling sourly put out. She needed coin just as much as the other person, her throat was already starting to feel a little bit parched. "For food, for drink, for the brothel! These are what I need to live a long, healthy lifestyle!"

Hawke snorted and reached over to grab the bottle Isabela had been reaching for, moving it so that it was settled between both Merrill and herself. "If you desperately need coin for everything you do Isabela then if you help me out, I'll award you with coin from my savings."

Isabela licked her lips slightly, feeling more and more accomplished at the images of Hawke's coin being stacked in one corner and in the other corner was where Hawke stacked her finest equipment; the smell of the gold and the imagery of the equipment was enough to make Isabela drool.

It was truly tempting, and not difficult either! Hawke was basically handing money into her lap without expecting her to do anything but train some recruits; it was bloody perfect!

Pleased at the proposition that had been presented to her, Isabela leaned forward to rest her chin in the palm of her hands - smugger than the day she had managed to win the old Siren's Call in a duel with an ill-fated captain.

"Hawke you may have tempted me into helping you."

Immediately Hawke got up with a scowl, dark hair falling softly over her shoulders and the sudden movement of her getting up making Merrill jump in her seat. "I'm not bedding you Isabela!"

Isabela shot Merrill a flirtatious (not to mention, knowing) wink, gesturing towards the worked-up Hawke with her eyes. "That's what they all say, isn't it Kitten? Until they find themselves in my bed. It's terribly embarrassing on themselves really, but what can I do?"

Merrill glanced at the standing refugee with a rather suspicious smile on her face, suspicious enough that Isabela chuckled slightly when Hawke herself noticed it and turned to regard the elf with wariness.

"You seem eager Hawke!" Merrill giggled slightly under her breath, drinking her water as if it was enough to give her courage to carry on breathing.

"I'm not eager for anything!" Hawke retorted with a large scowl, something which was unusual whenever Hawke talked to Merrill, but today it looked like Hawke was having trouble trying to keep herself away from the crossfire of both Merrill's innocence and Isabela's forwardness.

Isabela shared a look with the giggling elf, smirking slightly when Merrill gazed down shyly at her mug of water after a moment.

Hawke apparently caught her because as soon as Isabela looked up to grab another bottle of ale that had been placed on her make-shift table, her hand was grabbed and she felt herself leave her seat with undeniable force.

"You," Hawke growled scathingly, wrenching the bottle from Isabela's hand and slamming it back down on the barrel that the three of them had been using as a table. "Get to the barracks. _Now_."

Isabela raised an amused brow at the frustrated refugee for a moment, letting her amber hues caress Hawke's face for a second more before brushing past the refugee with a laugh; smug at seeing a red-faced Hawke glaring at her when she tossed a glance over her shoulder.

Hawke was so much _fun._

* * *

"Hawke I'm not sure if this is a good idea."

Isabela looked up from polishing her daggers, grinning when she found out that Aveline's eyes were on her; distrustful, suspicious and looking like if Isabela breathed in the wrong direction then the pirate might as well slit her own throat and get it over with.

Not that she was afraid of Aveline, huh, she most certainly wasn't! Aveline was just a big, large, muscle-shaped woman that had the ability to breathe someone dead - Isabela reckoned that the older woman probably had muscles in her _breath_.

"Aveline, trust me for once will you?" Isabela could hear Hawke sigh softly to the Guard Captain; curiosity taunting her to look up to see that the refugee had placed a firm hand on Aveline's shoulder. "Isabela will be on her best behaviour today, I'll make sure of it."

Isabela smirked at Hawke's not-so-believable-promise, laughing when the woman turned to address her with an arched brow that spoke to Isabela on many levels - the particular level that stood out the most being that she was silently warning her that if she _wasn't_ on her best behaviour, then that coin could easily be forgotten.

"Promises, promises Hawke," she murmured wickedly, sheathing both Heartbreaker and Backstabber with a click of her tongue. "Let's not make ones we may not be able to keep, shall we?"

When Isabela allowed herself to look up again, she was graced with the scene of Hawke throwing a sack of coins up in the air and catching it with a subtle grin on her expression; something that Isabela thought she'd never see in a lifetime.

"You're right," Hawke murmured with another grin, pocketing the sack with a dark chuckle. "Of course you are! You're Isabela! How could you not be right?"

Isabela was about to protest (or at least try and find a way to deviously worm her hand around that sack of coins) when all of a sudden Lady Man-Hands appeared in front of her, grabbing hold of her arm and pushing her forward so that she stood in a line where the rest of Hawke's companions awaited.

Well, apart from Merrill and Anders. Isabela could just about hear Hawke arguing with the elf a few feet away, something along the lines of '_you never let me fight!_' and '_this fight is different Merrill! Aveline isn't on our side in this one!'_

Isabela felt something nudge against her thigh and looking down she realized that Varric was smirking up at her, fondling Bianca's cocking ring with a sleazy grin that Isabela could familiarize herself with.

"You feeling game today Rivaini?" He chuckled up proudly at her, gesturing to the recruits that Aveline was also starting to line up. "Or are you still feeling a bit dizzy from the drink?"

"_Drinks_ Varric," Isabela corrected with a sly wink. "And you know I'm game for _everything_ you throw at me…"

Varric grinned, bringing Bianca up slightly to nudge at her thigh again. "Hey Rivaini, keep it mild in front of the kids," he gestured to the scowling Carver with a laugh. "Or we'll have Hawke wondering why Carver keeps asking her what felicitate means again!"

"Will you two both shut up?" Carver snapped at the both of them, making Isabela giggle and Varric snort. "This is bloody important! For Maker's sake, this could give us a bit of good reputation around Hightown!"

Isabela shared a look with her dwarves companion, rolling her eyes when Varric merely shook his head, turning away from her to a start up a quick conversation with Fenris.

However before Isabela could give another mocking sigh, Hawke had stood in front of her; inspecting her with narrowed eyes that was enough to make Isabela laugh wickedly when the refugee started to examine the leather that was wrapped around her corset.

Her laugh on the other hand made Hawke stare up at her, piercing blue swimming her vision until Hawke clicked her tongue in annoyance at her; making her blink hard at the sound.

"What?" Isabela found herself giggling slightly, amused at the flush that had started to creep up Hawke's neck. "You were the one staring at me Phoe-"

"Isabela!" Hawke snapped crossly at her, jabbing her shoulder with the blunt end of her staff. "For Maker's sake! Control yourself will you? Come on, these are trained guardsmen! You'll struggle against them if you don't focus!"

She couldn't help it, she scoffed in Hawke's face and then at Aveline's scowl once the Guard Captain had focused her attention towards her. "Guardsmen? This is child's play Hawke! Don't worry your sweet head over me." She reached over to brush her fingers through the refugee's hair as she spoke, laughing once more when Hawke flushed and pulled her head away.

"Hawke! Are you too busy flirting that you've forgotten what I've asked of you?" Aveline interrupted their banter with an impatient tone in her voice; which was always expected when it came from Aveline, of all people.

Growling angrily (though Isabela wasn't sure if the growl was directed at her or Aveline) Hawke moved to stand beside her with her lower lip pouted out, grip around her staff tight enough that Isabela was sure she could see the rims of the wood turning to ice around Hawke's fingers.

"Sweet thing," Isabela murmured after a few moments of silence between them, taking this chance to talk to the refugee whilst Aveline started explaining the routine to her guardsmen. "Hanged Man later? I know I can drink you under the table, though Varric has told me otherwise."

Isabela lost interest when she realized that Hawke wasn't going to answer her; instead focusing her attention on examining her two daggers in the palms of both of her hands, holding them to the light and staring at her reflection as Aveline talked.

When Aveline stopped talking Isabela just about caught Hawke staring at her in the reflection of her daggers when she tilted it the right a little, the reaction of seeing such a thing causing Isabela to smirk at the unintentional intrusion.

She whipped her head around to stare back at the refugee, feeling less smug when Hawke merely lifted a curious brow at her before shaking her head and turning away to address Aveline with her attention once more.

She didn't hear much after that apart from Aveline commanding them all to be rough on each other, no holding back (Isabela was pretty sure Aveline had looked at her at that point) against anyone and if there was anyone falling behind then they'd have to meet Aveline in her office soon after the training session finished.

Basically, Aveline was being boring. And nothing was happening. Coin or not, if Aveline didn't hurry the hell up then she'd…

"Isabela, you'll be with Donnic." Aveline's voice broke through her thoughts all of a sudden, and when she glanced up she met the eyes of the man she, Hawke, Aveline and Anders had saved some months ago. "Try to keep your clothes on in this dance." Aveline added as an afterthought, moving to the side to pair Varric up with another guardsman.

Isabela shot the side of Aveline's face a look of contempt, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at the older woman. "Lady Man-Hands…" she murmured, feeling that maybe she should just rip Donnic's armour off instead, then it certainly wouldn't be her fault.

She addressed the guard with a teasing wink, twirling her daggers round and round her fingers until Donnic took step forward to lunge at her with his sword - a clumsy move that she easily side-stepped.

Donnic is unusually fast however and Isabela is surprisingly kept on her toes by his quick stabs and thrusts of his sword and shield, but he tires easily and soon Isabela is way ahead of the guard; twisting and turning whenever Donnic tries to lunge his sword at her.

"Fight dirty!" She taunted with a roll of her eyes, wondering why she even agreed to such a thing in the first place. Oh right, she was trying to help these guards to learn her moves. Her logic was _brilliant_. "You won't be able to catch me if you don't-"

She didn't understand how she landed on her ass all of a sudden, but Isabela felt her feet get swept from under of her and soon all she could hear was a ringing in her ears and the sound of her groans escaping her lips at the pain.

"Bollocks," Isabela moaned into the patch of dirt she had managed to land herself in, accepting the hand that rested on her shoulder to pull her up right. "You must of moved quick there Donary or whatever your name is because that was…"

"That wasn't me." Donnic answered with a small, amused smile, gesturing towards someone behind her with a wave of his hand.

Isabela feels something that she guesses to be frustration at being caught unaware, spinning her daggers once more on her index fingers and the feeling in the pit of her stomach starts to spread as soon as her eyes locked with piercing blue.

"Hawke? I got felled by you?" Isabela can barely believe such a thing could happen to her. Her felled? By a _mage? _By _Hawke?_ "You ditzy nug-humping whore you! You caught me completely off guard!" And the laughter that escaped Isabela was enough to bring tears to the former captain's face - she just cannot believe it! She fought Qunari! And she was brought down to the floor by Hawke?

It wasn't that she didn't think Hawke was powerless in battle, because hell, Hawke was a force to be reckoned with once you got her started; however being brought down by her was still something Isabela wasn't quite sure she was pleased with.

Hawke, being the curt shit she was, smirked and nodded her head once at her, turning away from her to parry and smash the butt of her staff against a very unfortunate guard's temple - sending him crashing to the ground with a hiss.

Isabela snorted with a roll of her eyes, sending a scathing look Hawke's way when the mage helped the guard up with a murmur of sympathetic well-wishes; the arm that she had fell on feeling even more sore when looking at the refugee.

The guard limped past her, hand clutching his head and Isabela couldn't help but bristle slightly at the cold armour against her sweaty skin; glancing down to see that the armour had managed to brush blood against her skin as the guard has passed.

She glanced up at Hawke again, surprised at the close proximity but hiding it behind a well-placed smirk as she stared up and down at the refugee with a lurid smile. "Well, someone's a little worked up aren't we Hawkey?"

Isabela examined the smudge of blood on Hawke's slightly-toned arms (more boney than muscular but enough muscle that it was recognizable when up close) with another explicit smile, sheathing her daggers to stare appreciating at the blood that had started to drip bit by bit down the refugee's arm.

"Tch." Hawke clicked her tongue at her in aggravation, bringing a hand up that looked like it had a few drops of blood on each of her fingertips and wiping it across Isabela's cheek - staining it red.

Not one to feel intimidated (by Hawke, of all people) Isabela cocked her brow up at the refugee, prodding Hawke's shoulder with a long finger. "What was that for, eh? Angry that I showed you up?"

Hawke's eyes narrowed dangerously at her. "One, you didn't show me up. Two, I was the one who showed you up. And three, I just gave you my congratulations."

"Really?" Isabela purred with a lilt to her voice, wiping away the now dried blood with the tips of her nails. "Looks to me like you just gave me some blood to wipe on my skin. Great, I've heard it's what you use to get that lovely skin of yours!"

Hawke growled, shaking her head to try and get rid of the tousled locks away from her eyes. "It's what Carver used to do before Bethany died. He said it was a symbol of courage and bravery."

Isabela felt something that felt like cold remorse wrap its clammy hands around her, but ignored the sensation completely once she recognized it. She didn't know this Bethany girl, she didn't know her and never would. It was no time to feel such a thing.

As an alternative, Isabela snorted and wiped at the blood on her cheek. "Sounds completely moronic to me. No wonder Carver came up with it. He must have stank from all the blood! Like an aroused mabari hound!"

Hawke gave her a strange look in response, eyes widening comically. "I'm not sure I want to know what you're talking about, but fine. I was just saying that you're a talented fighter."

Isabela could take a compliment off everyone, she wasn't afraid of accepting them or even going further than a simple compliment, but Hawke was one of those Isabela felt slightly wicked with and soon she found out that just a light brush of her finger against Hawke's wrist was enough to make the mage tighten her defences even more.

"Oh sweet thing, if you want me to bed you then you know that all you have to do is ask, don't you?" Isabela offered in a low undertone and a wicked glint in her eye, unsheathing a dagger to caress Hawke's cheek with - _teasingly._ "Or are you truly as boring as you sound?"

Hawke grunted, something that the refugee seemed good at whenever it came to trying to communicate with her. She turned her head to the side, addressing Isabela with a subtle smile.

"I don't need to ask for you to bed me Isabela," Hawke murmured in a low tone, leaning on her staff for balance as she continued to speak. "You'll figure it out soon enough if I want you to or not."

Isabela felt a rumble in her chest as a sultry purr left her lips when Hawke brushed past her, smug once more at the attention she had received off the refugee.

She pricked the tip of her fingers with her daggers, turning to watch Hawke stalk towards Aveline (who was currently watching them both with daggers, or so it seemed) with amusement in her eyes.

"Promises, promises Hawke," Isabela grinned with a devious wink towards Lady Man-Hands disapproving expression.

She looked down at her fingers, rubbing the now dry, cracked blood in between her fingertips.

Was this Hawke's favour?

Isabela held back another snort, ruffling her own hair and taking up another position in front of Donnic.

Hawke's favour, Isabela realized once she rubbed the dry blood between her thumb and forefinger, was something that made her mind whirl.

And if that was the effect, then it wasn't a very good favour of Hawke's was it? Silly Phoenix Hawke.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Being kicked was not something Isabela wanted to wake up to every time she accidentally fell into a ditch after a late night of drinking with Varric, but still it was better than being pissed on by passing dogs.

"Get up." another kick to her left hip, bringing a sharp pain that was enough to make Isabela gasp in surprise at the intrusion as well as the pain that it brought. "Get up or I'm throwing you into the sea that you love so much."

"Piss off Hawke," Isabela murmured, now recognizing the voice enough that she could now attempt to argue back with her 'attacker'. "I'm trying to sleep here! Piss off! I was comfortable until you came with your stupid..." Isabela trailed off, swearing under her breath.

The sharp blade of Hawke's staff poked her at the back of her neck, the cold steel making Isabela groan throatily at the cold metal reacting against the hot sweat on the back of her neck. "I need your assistance again Isabela, so get your lazy ass into gear will you? Otherwise we might not make it back to the tavern in time so you can drink yourself into a stupor. Again."

Isabela sighed at Hawke's commanding voice once more; pushing herself up to crick her neck to the left and to the right until she could just about feel her neck starting to lose the numbness it had gained from the awkward way she had lain in the night.

"So you do have a sense of humour after all huh?" Isabela chuckled teasingly; still trying to rub away all the kinks in her body. "You surprise me every day my sweetness and - Ooh, could you rub there? I can't reach there." Isabela broke off from her original speech to point at the area just below her shoulder blades, urging Hawke to rub the kink away with a wicked smile and a mischievous look in her amber hues.

Hawke gave her a disgusted look, her fine brows arched in disbelief. "Get yourself ready to meet me at the Gallows. We're leaving the city for a while and I expect you to at least bring the essentials."

Isabela glanced down at herself for a mere second before looking Hawke straight in the eye, smiling and opening her arms up wide with a mocking expression on her face. "Surprise!"

Of course that didn't impress Hawke, but Isabela never planned for that to happen in the first place; so when Hawke rolled her eyes at her and turned to leave it honestly wasn't that surprising.

"Do you want me to meet you at the Gallows at night? Or day?" Isabela called after Hawke's retreating form, laughing out loud at her antics and how Hawke seemed to react at every little thing she did. "Or should I bother to come at all? Should I sail there? Skip there? Jog? HAWKE! Are you listening to me?"

Laughing at Hawke's frustrated silence, Isabela brushed herself down and started to return to her room in the Hanged Man; feeling unbelievably perky despite how rough her wake up call had been.

* * *

"So if we go this way then we'll be able to plan an attack before they realize? Correct?" Isabela heard Hawke's question as she slipped through the gates that would lead her directly to the Gallows.

"No Hawke, if we go that way we'll most likely be eaten by the wild-life." Aveline's voice. Isabela had to hold in her groan of misery at it. "It's too dangerous."

"That's why I've brought Merrill!" Hawke argued back, and Isabela could see that once more the refugee was starting to get more and more frustrated. "She knows Sundermount better than we do! She'll know the way better than us."

Isabela held back a sigh at the apparel Hawke was wearing and the equipment that the refugee held in her hand. She'd forgotten to bring any of the essentials she'd need for the long trip to Sundermount and even if she did go back to the Hanged Man to fetch her cloak then Hawke would just be even angrier when she came back late.

Hawke had the rather distinct ability of getting angry at her, Isabela didn't know if this was a sign of annoyance or if Hawke did it on purpose just to get a kick out of her behaviour. Isabela herself just found it extremely amusing herself, Hawke had an adorable scowl.

"But if we take that route then it'll take longer!" Aveline's voice seemed more snappish than usual, maybe it had something to do with the fact that Hawke had not been at the barracks for a while to catch up with her. "Do you want them to get away with everything?"

"But if we go the other way then we'll be certain to bump heads right with them! They'll know we'll be coming from miles away!" Hawke's rising voice was causing mages and templars alike to stare at the scene, either looking bewildered or suspicious.

Isabela frankly thought that the whole commotion was stupid and ridiculous considering where they were and _who_ they were; if Hawke wasn't careful then both her and Merrill would be forced straight into the Gallows if the refugee didn't shut her trap.

"Hawke this is my assignment that I thought fit to tell you of, if you don't want to do it then just say so and I'll pick more reliable men to come with me!" Aveline snapped with a growl and this was the time where Isabela decided it was fit to interrupt the two of them with a loud yawn.

Merrill, who looked like she had been squirming in terror at the argument between Aveline and Hawke, turned to look at Isabela with a glint of happiness in her emerald orbs; looking like she was resisting to tackle Isabela to the ground in a hug. "Isabela! You're here! I knew you was going to be here but Hawke thought that you were still in bed and she was just going to come down to wake you up, but I knew you'd come!"

Isabela shared a sweet smile with the young elf, feeling lighter and more excited at the prospect of going up Sundermount with Merrill at her side - because as lovely as Hawke was when it came to being teased, Merrill was the only person she managed to talk to without getting into a fight.

She wasn't even going to bother to contemplate her relationship with Aveline.

Isabela was just about to respond to Merrill about how Hawke probably meant ditch instead of bed however stopped short when she felt as if someone was staring at her, the burning sensation at the back of her mind causing Isabela's eyes to dance around her surroundings.

Her eyes land on Hawke who was staring at her with her lip curled in something that Isabela guessed to be irritation.

"You forgot your cloak." Hawke stated bluntly though a blind fool could tell that the refugee was not pleased at all. The former captain could tell by the way Hawke's hues seemed to refuse to land anywhere else but on her, it was a look that made Isabela's lips curl into a wicked smile.

"You didn't tell me I needed a cloak, sweet thing." Isabela chuckled ruefully, wrapping a strong arm around Merrill's neck to bring the sweet elven girl into a friendly one-armed hug. "You also didn't say where we were going! How could I know what you were talking about? Personally I thought you wanted me up here just to get me alone."

She also used this action of hugging Merrill as a defensive mechanism - she had the sinking feeling Hawke was going to knock the living shit out of her otherwise.

Instead Hawke hissed angrily at herself, gritting her teeth and closing her eyes; looking as if she had been punched in the gut at her stupidity. "You're right I didn't because I was too busy kicking you awake. I apologize."

Hawke then turned to glance at her again, her expression quickly changing into something that resembled amusement. "You can let go of Merrill now, we've got a job to do."

"By Maker, we're actually going now?" Aveline interrupted with a frown and an expression that (in Isabela's opinion) would bring Hawke's scowling and Fenris's brooding to shame. "Let's go before Isabela decides to try and catch all the diseases in the Gallows."

Giving the Guards Captain a sly wink, Isabela nudged her hip into Merrill's own (Merrill swayed slightly, squeaking at the intrusion of her personal space) with a smirk. "Too late Man-Hands…"

Aveline ignored her completely and proceeded to stomp her way out of the Gallows with Hawke at her heels, but the refugee's cold eyes had softened to stare at Isabela in amusement at her comment before she too had passed the gates of the Gallows.

Merrill gave her a look of innocence once the other two women had left, it warmed Isabela's heart to see it. "Did I miss something again?"

Laughing gleefully at Merrill's naivety when it came to the things that spouted out of her mouth, Isabela patted the elf's head with a smirk. "No Kitten, in fact you saw everything there was to see."

"I don't get it." Merrill pouted, sounding so put out that Isabela felt a bit sorry for her and once more wrapped an arm around the elf's neck, grinning in hope that would cheer Merrill up a bit.

"Tell ya when you're older Kitten, come on! Before Aveline leaves us to the mercy of the high and pompous nobles! Quick, run before they eat us!"

* * *

The walk to Sundermount was slow and tedious, it was horrible and rainy, the clouds above looked as threatening as a god's fist straining to break through and crush them and…

Isabela was _freezing_ her ass off.

Sundermount hadn't been this cold when she was up here last time! In fact, it had been sunny and bright and full of wee rabbits!

Which Hawke had hunted so they could all eat for the day before heading up the vast mountain to perform that ritual for the cackling, arrogant witch who thought she could read Isabela like a seer reading someone's palm. Ridiculous.

And to Isabela's annoyance, Hawke and Aveline were arguing again whilst Merrill tried to calm them down with her cute, little banter that really doesn't do anything but make Hawke and Lady Man-Hands grow angrier.

"This is the wrong way Hawke! We've been going around in circles for hours and you still won't listen to me!" Aveline looked close to breaking at this point - usually Isabela would find this entertaining and would throw in a quick quip herself, but right now? She was too busy freezing to death to care.

"Because I know this is the right way! And maybe if you weren't so busy trying to point me in the right direction then you'd know that the right direction is where we're going!" Hawke retorted with a growl, hackles rising and her cold eyes darkening with temper.

"Maybe we should all calm down?" Merrill squeaked after a momentary silence, her bright little eyes shining pleasantly and her hands gesturing for both Hawke and Aveline to relax.

Aveline ignored the whimpering elf, snatching the map away from the refugee with a grunt. "You're being ridiculous! If you weren't so busy flirting with Isabela then you'd know which way to go!"

"I haven't even spoken to Isabela!" Hawke argued back viciously, trying to grab the map out of Aveline's hands but failing dramatically due to their height difference.

Feeling it was in her place to say something, Isabela forced words to come out of her sore throat. "You didn't have to speak Hawke! It was your eyes! Your eyes! They sing to me!"

Hawke glared at her from over her shoulder, mouthing '_I hate you_.'

Shivering out of her skin, Isabela shuffled past the scowling Guards Captain to yank the map from her hands; staring at it fiercely through the harsh wind whipping her face.

"You're both going the bloody wrong way," Isabela rumbled out through gritted teeth, poking at the spot which was their destination. "We need to turn left here and keep going forward until we reach that particular place there and then we head west which will lead us to our destination."

She then turned to hand the back to Hawke, shaking her head and grinning (which was incredibly hard considering how her mouth had all but frozen in one place) with delight. "You were looking at the map the wrong way round."

Hawke's expression changes from outrage to confusion in all but a split second, the cold blue eyes widening and narrowing so quickly it made Isabela feel smugger than usual with herself at catching the refugee off guard.

Aveline herself looked speechless however that soon changed once the Guard Captain and Hawke met each other's gaze - both breaking out into laughter at the realization that not only had _Isabela_ figured something out, but the pirate had proved them both wrong at the same time!

Merrill looked at the two of them with an unsure smile on her face, wondering if this was a trick or genuine.

Isabela didn't know herself so she just shuffled forward towards the elf, grabbed her gently by the arm and nudged her forward in the right direction.

"I don't get it!" Merrill spluttered after a minute of silence between the group, looking back to see that now instead of arguing Aveline and Hawke were in a deep conversation with subtle smiles on their faces. "What happened?"

"Kitten let me just put this simply and before I do say these words, I am not a follower of the chantry whatsoever!" Isabela took a deep breath after that, hanging on with delight at the sight of Merrill's curious eyes on her. "But the Maker has spoken!"

"To me, it looks like madness." Merrill responded, wide eyes once more glancing back at the refugee and the Guards Captain.

Laughing hard at the young elf, Isabela threw a sly smile at the refugee who had taken it upon herself to keep an eye on the two of them once she had realized the origin of their conversation. "Kitten, you always seem to amaze me at how wise you are!"

To Isabela's absolute pleasure Hawke's features hardened and she was rewarded with Hawke flushing slightly despite how hard the refugee tried not to; it was oddly appealing.

"I haven't even ran my fingers through your hair yet, sweet thing." Isabela cooed devilishly, swiping at Hawke's chin with a hoarse chuckle due to the cold weather that was biting at every piece of skin that was not covered up by her outfit. "Calm those flushing cheeks or we'll be forced to push you into a lake in case you start to hyperventilate!"

Noticing that instead of the refugee flushing in embarrassment as she had before, Hawke's eyes had grown stormy and dark - the embarrassment of course had quickly turned into frustration and that excited Isabela to no end.

"Big word for you," Hawke growled out with an animalistic tinge of anger coating her words, the thuds of her footsteps enough to make Isabela smirk at a particular image that flashed through her mind at the feel of the refugee's breath on the back of her neck. Then, "do you have a death wish Isabela?"

Aveline murmured a quiet, "we can only hope," but Isabela ignored her, choosing to instead turn to face Hawke with a determined look in her eye and her signature smirk on her lips.

Hawke's breathing was shallow and it sounded pained, like the apostate was struggling to breathe and the way her expression changed from fairly calm to livid frustration was enough to make Isabela _ache_.

Still, Hawke had asked her a question and Isabela knew that not answering such a delicious question - even if it had not been intended as one - would be nothing short of rude.

"Nope!" Isabela answered with a curt nod of her head, resisting the urge to laugh right in the apostate's face when Hawke seemed to tense up at her voice and her fingers (that had curled into fists) started to glow faintly with the magical energy that Hawke had pent up to resist the urge of knocking Isabela down flat.

And then (before Isabela could begin to fathom what was happening) Isabela felt something prod her in the stomach that felt quite _velvety_. Velvet was not exactly what Isabela allowed herself to wear; mostly because it was just too heavy compared to what she normally wore and it stuck to all the wrong places once she was sweaty and it did absolutely nothing for her.

Isabela glanced down to see that Hawke was presenting her with a cloak (her own) that was russet-coloured velvet and looked extremely warm since it had been practically basking in the warmth of Hawke's hand - that had previously been, for lack of better words, magicked up.

"If you don't have one then wear this," Hawke murmured with a sly smirk exposing itself on the apostate's lips, dark hair falling in front of one of her eyes to hide the amused glint behind the cold blue hues. "Or by Maker, you'll get a cold and freeze to death."

Momentarily stunned at the refugee (and at how close Hawke had been a few moments ago), Isabela just about regained her senses when Hawke brushed past her with a dark chuckle escaping her mouth; the sound sharp enough that it made the former captain's ears twitch at the noise.

'_Did I just get tricked by her?_' Isabela mused to herself once Aveline (who had rolled her eyes at the whole scene) pushed past her. _'Did I just get tricked by Hawke? AGAIN?'_

Glancing down at the velvet with mixed emotions, Isabela clenched at the material with her fists wondering slightly if she should throw it the ground and stomp on it for good measure.

"Come on Isabela, you're falling behind! Didn't you want to get home before the tavern closes?" Hawke called to her with a tone that made Isabela want to punch puppies.

Merrill is still there though, so Isabela shot her a look that is questioning enough that the pirate hopes Merrill will understand what she's asking instead of being adorably innocent.

The elf took the cloak from her hands as she hummed a tune, circling around the pirate to clasp the cloak's fastening around the pirate's neck, returning a few moments later with a blush on her cheeks and a shy smile on her lips.

Amused at her Kitten's expression, Isabela glanced down at herself in Hawke's cloak with laughter sprinkling out of her lips at the image of herself in Hawke's ridiculously long velvet cloak.

Isabela, feeling more mischievous now that she was in Hawke's clothing, grabbed a parting corner of the refugee's cloak and brought it over her face with another laugh. "I am Hawke! The broody, malicious apostate mage who wants nothing more but to bang every woman she sees! Look at me as I twirl my staff! Aren't you ladies impressed with my mad skills? Come on ladies! LOOK AT IT TWIRL!"

Merrill snorted into her hands, trying not to look like she was about to collapse in a giggling fit at the pirate's antics.

"No really ladies! I am a pure-bred mage! And I know, you don't have to say anything but I have magicked you breath away! Would you like me with my cloak on or off?"

Unable to stop herself any longer Merrill broke out into full-fledged giggles, laughing so hard that Isabela had to catch the falling elf just in case Merrill hurt herself.

It was almost as if Hawke had heard her, for a moment later Isabela heard the apostate call hers and Merrill's name - sound even more snappier than she had before.

"I think she heard you…" Merrill whispered with a faint laugh, looking dazed now that the laughter had left her body so abruptly.

Steadying the elf with a hand, Isabela once more chuckled at the bewildered look on Merrill's face. "Oh kitten, Hawke's a big girl. She'll be able to take it. But I think by the noise coming from that direction, we'd better get going hm?"

"ISABELA!" Another yell.

The former captain and the elf shared looks with one another before Isabela finally winked at the younger girl, grasped her by the hand and ran towards Hawke's yell - the refugee's cloak flapping behind her.

* * *

_Because imagining Isabela flaunting around in Hawke's cloak to me is downright hilarious. But I truly have no sense of humour as I laugh at almost anything. XD Anyways, hope you liked this chapter. =)  
__I apologize but I haven't checked the grammar of this chapter, so I'm sorry if you find any glaring mistakes. Just wanted to post it up before I went to sleep._

_Enjoy and don't forget to review. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Wait a moment!"

Isabela immediately halted at Hawke's commanding voice, shuffling to the side slightly to peer around the apostate's shoulder to see what she was staring at.

"Ooh now they look expensive!" Isabela cooed in delight, eyes widening at a particular bandit who had placed a ruby necklace in one of his pouches that hung low on his belt.

"And well-armed too," Hawke said with her usual frustrated growl, looking around at the surroundings of the camp of bandits with unease. "If we just rush in we'll get slaughtered like pigs."

"Or halla!" Merrill piped up from behind Isabela, chuckling nervously when silence fell on the group at her interruption.

Hawke broke the silence with another growl, turning away from the scene and gesturing for them all to come closer to her.

"We need a distraction," Hawke whispered to them all, eyes narrowing along with Aveline's - obviously meaning something but no matter how hard she tried, Isabela couldn't quite figure out what. "Something that will make them abandon the camp and scatter!"

"If we make them scatter then that not only makes them easier to pick off, but us as well." Aveline countered Hawke's speech with her own, drawing her sword to dig the steel into the dirt below them. "If one of us distracts them enough that we all attack when their back is turned, they'll be caught off guard - therefore giving us a better chance."

Hawke nodded in agreement at the plan, Merrill started to nod her head but stopped once she realized that Hawke had stopped and Isabela, well…She was still a bit cold, despite the velvet cloak she wore around her.

"Good plan Aveline, best one I've heard from you all day." Hawke winked at the Guards Captain with a smug look plastered on her face that Isabela had only noticed on the apostate's face a few times before.

Isabela watched Aveline give Hawke a smirk, reaching over to push at the apostate's shoulder. "Shove it you! I have very many good plans! Not that I have any time to put them in action because of you and your bloody self-righteous self!"

Isabela rolled her eyes at the interaction between the Guards Captain and the blighted refugee, wondering if she could get away with teasing them both at the flirty banter between them both without a few bruises afterwards.

Instead she scoffed, murmuring a quick '_they are so screwing each other' _to Merrill (who turned three different shades of red) and started to play with the hem of Hawke's cloak, pulling at the velvet when it started to irritate her skin with its softness.

After a few seconds of Isabela pondering how on earth Hawke managed to get this cloak - considering the expensive material - the former captain looked up to see Aveline's, Hawke's and Merrill's eyes on her; staring at her as if she was the Maker himself.

Isabela raised an arched brow at the group, letting go of Hawke's velvet cloak with a smirk. "Alright, what is it? Have I got blood on my face? Is it because I'm too scantily clad again? Because if it is then I'm telling you I have no other-"

"I think!" Hawke interrupted with her expression twisting into something that resembled frustration mixed with foul amusement - which of course meant that something bad was going to happen. "We have found our distraction."

Of course Hawke would find someway to turn this onto her, of course she would! It was like the apostate was obsessed of putting her in the spotlight.

Not that Isabela was complaining.

"What?" She breathed out slowly, exhaling noisily from her nostrils. "Did I hear that just right? Or are you looking at me for a different reason, sweet thing?"

Merrill looked around at them all, confused once more. "Why are we looking at Isabela? Is it because she's pretty? Because Isabela _is_ very pretty."

Isabela resisted the urge to hug the elf senseless, feeling more and more affectionate when it came to her little kitten. "Oh kitten, you know how to make a girl feel loved around here!"

"Don't encourage her Merrill," Hawke sighed at the elf, patting her on the shoulder with a sympathetic look on her face. "We're looking at Isabela because she's just volunteered to be the bait."

"Oh really?" Merrill gasped while Isabela tried hard not to smack Hawke's arrogant face with her fist; because it was irritatingly one of those faces that you did not want to mar - it was too pretty. "Be careful Isabela! It sounds awfully dangerous to me!"

"Wait, what?" Isabela asked again, spluttering when Hawke took her by the wrist to lead her further into the bushes so that they were closer to the camp of bandits and slavers. "What am I even doing? Why aren't _you_ the bait? I heard slavers like magic meat on their toast every morning!"

"Because Isabela," Hawke murmured into her ear, grip still tight on her wrist. "You're beautiful and exotic; which of course means you'll be enough that they won't want to harm you. Much anyway."

Unable to resist the opportunity of teasing Hawke once more, Isabela arched a brow at the refugee and knocked her knee against Hawke's thigh. "Beautiful and exotic is it? Oh Hawke, if you wanted me to bed you then you don't have to work so hard! I'm right here!"

Hawke's cold eyes hardened immediately afterwards but despite her cold exterior, Isabela could still see that Hawke was flushing under her gaze again and not only was it adorable - but extremely alluring.

"Oh Hawke!" Isabela cooed teasingly, running a hand through the refugee's hair with a sultry laugh. "How many women did you bed with this act? No seriously, you can tell me. I won't tell anyone!"

"Knock it off Isabela!" Hawke growled, voice sounding more throaty than usual (nervous, Isabela guessed) and her eyes seemed darker too - with anger most likely, but it was still enough change that it made Isabela's thoughts to run away from her. "I was just saying that to try and loosen you up to the idea!"

"What idea?" Isabela still can't exactly remember when Hawke told her the plan on what she was going to do, but she doesn't have much of a choice when Hawke's hand moved from her wrist to push at her back - sending her sprawling forward into the bandits camp; right out in the open.

Isabela decided that when she got out of this mess, she was going to punch Hawke's living guts out of her body - if only so she didn't find the urge to smack Hawke in the face.

The bandit that Isabela had eyed putting jewellery in his pouch saw her almost straight away and soon enough Isabela felt a hand being placed on her shoulder, shaking her to see if she was unconscious or not.

She didn't know if this was part of Hawke's plan or not, but either way Isabela decided to remain quiet; wondering if Hawke revelled in seeing her on the ground seeming as most the time she talked to Hawke she was somehow face first somewhere in a ditch.

Hm, she certainly wouldn't mind seeing Hawke on the ground now and then or maybe in _her_ bed if she got lucky.

"Louvete!" Andraste's flaming knickers, and Isabela thought she had ale breath when it came to drinking but this man practically oozed it. She found it hard not to gag, but still an act was an act and Isabela never ruined a performance such as this one. "Get the others! I think we've found another corpse!"

'_One that falls helplessly out of bushes?' _Isabela mused to herself, resisting the urge to chuckle at this fool and his blind stupidity. _'And to think Aveline was worrying over this assignment.'_

More hands travelling up and down her body, surprisingly innocent as they don't try and skim and prod at her flesh but instead into the pockets and pouches that hang on her belt; obviously these bandits and slavers were just starting out, Isabela could tell by the lack of gear they had.

Though they certainly didn't look like easy-pickings either, which of course was the reason why she was lying face down in dirt in the first place.

"Don't think she's dead Stramp," a different man's voice, Isabela guessed he was this Louvete - the leader? She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure if she was waiting for Hawke to attack or if she was supposed to make a move herself. Andraste's tits, she was going to be screwed if this didn't turn out well. "Maybe she's one of those scavengers that come around Sundermount from time to time?"

"Like us you mean?" Stramp snapped back, voicing Isabela's thoughts quite clearly. "Shut up you scum, hoist her up and we'll get back to work. Besides, you seen Leon? He's left his blasted book behind and I don't want to be carrying it around everywhere. Especially when I can't read the thing!"

"That's what you get for travelling with an apostate Stramp!" Louvete chuckled and just before Isabela could do anything else (like hold her breath) his hands were lugging her over his shoulder like some flimsy rag doll. "His pissed off to Ferelden ain't he? Gotta go speak to the Enchanter there."

Isabela felt her head hit the hilt of the bandit's sword, it was hard enough that she knew it'd bruise soon enough if she didn't let Anders have a look at it when she got back - because while some may find bruises pretty, Isabela didn't really prefer them on her rather than other people.

"And he went willingly? Stupid brat!" Stramp laughed with his head held up high, high enough that his grip on her loosened slightly and Isabela had to hold in her squeal when all of a sudden he lost his grip on her - only managing to catch her in time when another slaver told him to watch it.

"What? It ain't like she's valuable cargo is it?" Stramp roared back at the slaver who had reprimanded him. "Maker's mercy! It ain't my fault she's heavier than a bronto either! What do they feed these wenches?"

Isabela inwardly fumed at the bandit's words, feeling her patience at being tossed around and _insulted_ start to wear her down. Forget it, if Hawke couldn't be arsed to tell her the plan then she'd forget the plan!

Okay so she was being petty but she'd had such a long day and anyway, Hawke wasn't the only one who could be moody.

Waiting for a moment to pass so Stramp would be out of sight as he led her further away from the camp, Isabela whistled and unsheathed her dagger Heartbreaker; whirling it through the air until it slashed across Stramp's back - causing for the bandit to curse and fall forward into the dirt.

"Hawke!" Isabela called again (in case her whistle had gone unheard) unsheathing Backstabber with a wary grin at the amount of slavers that had turned to face her due to the commotion she had created in the short amount of time. "I'm not trying to rush you, but HELP would be really appreciated right now!"

A fireball landing in front of her was Isabela's answer and with a grin, the pirate dove into the fray of flying arrows, lightning and swords clashing with glee.

* * *

When the battle ended Isabela let herself fall, breathing heavily at the amount of pain her muscles were feeling at the moment. Her legs had been hit by so many arrows it was almost impossible for her to tell where her feet began and where her thighs ended; even Hawke was looking down at her with an unusual amount of concern in her eyes.

"You alright?" Hawke managed to breathe out her question a few minutes after Isabela had caught the refugee staring at her, dark hair sticking to her forehead due to Hawke's exertion in the battle. "Those arrows got you a few times didn't they? You sure that wrapping will be okay"

Isabela nodded coolly, pushing herself up until she was resting on her elbows with her face staring up at the darkening sky - relishing the cool breeze that made the blood on her face tingle slightly.

"I'm fine! Stop worrying over me," Isabela grumbled at the refugee, getting up from her spot to kick at the lifeless body of a bandit next to her. "I'm more alive than he is anyway, which doesn't say much does it?"

Aveline, who looked like she had just had just went for a swim in a lake of blood, stumbled over to the wounded Merrill with a sigh, glancing at both Isabela and Hawke with uncertainty. "You two go dump the bodies somewhere while I clean up Merrill and get the camp set up."

"The camp?" Hawke looked at the Guards Captain with puzzlement, rubbing her thumb persistently over the dark stains that had blemished her dark robes. "We're staying?"

"I'm not going back to Kirkwall with both the whore and Merrill this injured and at this time of day." Aveline answered back calmly - bearing in mind that Aveline herself was bleeding just as much as Merrill was, Isabela felt a wave of respect wash over her for moment.

That vanished quickly when Aveline glared at her and gestured with her head to get moving. "You and Hawke go dump the bodies then, loot them if you must but don't be long. Oh and if you find some herbs that are medicinal then bring them straight here."

Isabela rolled her amber eyes at the auburn-haired woman, mockingly saluting the Guards Captain with a smirk afterwards. "Yes Lady Man-Hands! Anything you need Lady Man-Hands! On the double!"

With another chuckle escaping her lips, Isabela bent down to throw the bandit closest to her over her shoulder. "Give me a break…" She whispered underneath her breath, shaking her head at the complete idiocy of Aveline Vallen. Andraste's tits, she didn't know why Hawke put up with her some days.

The walk away from the camp was almost as tedious as the walk to get to the camp in the first place, first of all Isabela had to keep stopping because of the pain in her leg, second of all she kept losing track of Hawke and third of all it was just too dark to be dumping Maker forsaken bodies into a newly-dug ditch.

Isabela grunted as she tossed down one of the last of the slavers she and Hawke had managed to throw into the ditch they had come across; she felt exhausted by the days events and would welcome sleep like she welcomed sex - eagerly.

Just when she was about to call it a day (so exhausted that she had forgotten to loot the bodies) Isabela caught sight of Hawke on her knees, looking like she had found something that Isabela would call _valuable_.

Not that Hawke on her knees wasn't valuable enough, but Isabela was looking for something that was more shiny therefore Hawke was of out of her open-minded expense.

Sadly when Isabela managed to limp her way over to where Hawke was, all she was greeted with was Hawke flipping through various pages of some dusty old tome which was full to the brim of notes stuck to the pages; making the book appear to be quite large in size.

She sighed, gripping onto her right leg to steady it when it started to threaten to collapse right under her. "You have got to be kidding me…"

Hawke's head snapped up at once, regarding her with disgruntled nervousness. "What is it?"

"Of all the things you loot…" Isabela said, shaking her head with another sigh. "And you get some dusty old tome that you can't even read? Absolutely brilliant! You're such a bore Hawke."

"You can't read it?" Hawke's eyes crinkled in confusion at her before the refugee turned to look back at the tome, then back at Isabela once again; still confused. "But it says clearly here that…"

Clicking her tongue cockily at the apostate, Isabela leant down to snatch the tome from Hawke's hands; holding it high up in the air and scrutinizing the text carefully with her amber orbs.

"Nope!" She tossed it back at the apostate, running a hand through her own hair to relax herself fully now that the adrenaline of the previous battle had finally ran out. "Nothing but rubbish!"

Hawke snatched the tome from off her head, look more and more puzzled at how she could read the tome, yet Isabela could not. "I don't understand…How come I can read it and you can't?"

Isabela shrugged sluggishly, placing a hand over her mouth and yawning into it. "Beats me Hawkey, but who cares? It doesn't look valuable at all!" Isabela had to hold in a frustrated growl at the sight of the tome. "So disappointing…"

Hawke got up from her position with the tome in both of her hands; ice-cold eyes boring deep into Isabela's own, looking anxious and at the same time annoyed at her.

Isabela grinned, that was Hawke for you. Being fairly friendly one minute, turning on you in the next.

"Well if it isn't valuable to you, I'll keep it!" Hawke answered her with a thunderous growl escaping her lips, looking even more and more like the curt shit she really was when she was alone. "Not everything valuable has to be shiny you know? If that was the way then the we'd probably end up with-"

Isabela didn't let her finish.

"Oh shut up Hawke," Isabela chortled cheerfully, pushing Hawke forward towards the camp where Aveline and Merrill awaited. "If it makes you so damn happy, read the book! I don't care!"

Hawke shot another scathing look at her before looking down at the tome in her hands with intrigue, her thumb brushing over the spine with interest whilst her index finger on her left hand skimmed through the pages.

Isabela smirked, peering over Hawke's shoulder with feigned interest. "So…Any dirty pictures in there?"

Phoenix Hawke shot her a look that Isabela could only describe as a look a mother gave its child when said mother was trying very hard not to lose her patience.

"This is a book that is full of script that you can't read," Hawke said slowly, sounding like a complete fool in Isabela's opinion. "And you want to know if there's any dirty pictures in it? Unbelievable."

"Bah Hawke!" Isabela pushed at the refugee's shoulder, sending Hawke stumbling a few paces. "You and Aveline's scrutiny is not needed! I am an open book!"

"A very open book I see…" Hawke smirked knowingly, closing the tome shut with a laugh. "Honestly Isabela, I don't care what you do. I'm not the Guards Captain. As long as you don't get into too much trouble…"

Isabela quirked a brow at the apostate, staring down at the shorter woman with a subtle grin worming its way onto her lips.

"Well, well…" Without further ado, Isabela slung an arm around the smaller woman; laughing with glee at the shock that spread on Hawke's face at her touch. "So you really aren't as bad as I thought then! Not that I think you're ugly, you're not. Look at those blushing cheeks! Let me pinch them!"

Hawke tensed underneath her arms at her words so it truly didn't surprise Isabela one bit when the apostate pushed her away, eyes hardened and cold again. "You're so…infuriating!"

"I know!" Isabela laughed heartily, running one lone finger through Hawke's hair, revelling in the soft curls and locks that clung at her finger halfway through her adventure into the darkness of the apostate's hair. "But what can I say? You would die from boredom without me sweet thing!"

Hawke spared another glance at her, surprising Isabela slightly at how the refugee did not move to try and get her finger out of her hair. "Or I'd die from having too much stress."

Isabela drew her hand away from Hawke's dark tresses, letting her hands swing numbly by her side. "Now you're starting to sound like Aveline. Oh by the way, are you banging her?"

Hawke's face went an unhealthy red colour and the tome she had been carrying fell from her hands. She turned to face the laughing Isabela, cold eyes following the pirate as she bent down to retrieve the tome from the dirt and sand it had fallen in.

"W-what?" Hawke spluttered fearfully, eyes wide and cheeks flushed with mortification. "You think…Me and Aveline? Maker's breath! I…"

Isabela held in another laugh, nonchalantly flipping through the pages of the tome so it looked like she was keeping herself busy without making Hawke hyperventilate at her hot amber hues looking at her.

Hawke cleared her throat calmly, drawing Isabela's attention towards the apostate. "We're not sleeping with one another Isabela, Maker…How did you figure that one out?"

"What really? You're not flipping her over arse over tits?" Isabela faked surprise, placing a well-formed mask over her as she usually did - her husband had always said she was a rubbish liar and as always Isabela loved to prove him wrong, even in death. "You really don't see how she glares at me whenever I talk to you? Or are you really that oblivious to how she stares at you?"

Hawke turned on her at that, yanking the tome from her hands and glowering at her viciously with her icy blue eyes - it never failed to astonish Isabela at how quickly Hawke could backlash at her and how puppy-like she looked as she did so.

"Oh! That's exactly how she looks! You're brilliant at this Hawke! All you have to do is change your hair and you'll be a little version of Aveline!" Isabela teased wickedly, sniggering when Hawke snorted and turned her face away from her.

"Aveline isn't jealous of you Isabela," Hawke growled out after a few moments of silence, taking a swift left to lead both her and Isabela straight into the make-shift camp Aveline had set up. "She's worried about me. She doesn't think you're a good influence on me."

Isabela stopped at that, grabbing hold of Hawke's staff to slow the apostate down until she too halted in her walking. "Am I?"

"I don't know," Hawke didn't turn to look at her but it was obvious to Isabela that the refugee was scowling again. "Are you?"

Hawke shrugged away her grip on her staff, snorting when Isabela tried to gain hold of it again and started to jog her way back into camp.

Isabela watched for a moment more before a sharp shooting pain running through her thigh reminded her why she had to follow Hawke in the first place, she too then started to make her way back to camp.

* * *

"Isabela! _Psst Isabela!_"

Isabela groaned at the interruption of her falling asleep, rolling over onto her side to come face-to-face with the wide-eyed Merrill.

"What is it Kitten?" She managed to slurr out a few seconds later, repressing a yawn with her hand. "Is there something wrong with your bandaging? Figures Man-Hands couldn't do something like bandaging…"

"No it's not that, though thank you for asking, but…" Merrill gestured to behind her with a tilt of her head, smiling anxiously. "Hawke looks lonely back there."

Isabela snorted, looking behind Merrill to see that Hawke was staring into the embers of the fire with a determined look - looking every bit like the brusque fool she was. "She's supposed to look lonely Merrill, she's out on watch. Don't worry, she'll swap with Aveline later."

Instead of looking relieved, Merrill narrowed her eyes at her and made a disappointed sound in the back of her throat. "Isabela! Go talk to her! She likes you! She'll want your company!"

"What? Kitten no, listen here," Isabela sighed, rolling onto her back to avoid Merrill's cute emerald eyes that could break her will if the elf tried hard enough. "Hawke doesn't want to talk. Come on kitten, you know she's not a chatty person! I think you should just go back to-"

"Isabela…" And that was all it took to make Isabela hit her head in aggravation; not at Merrill, but at herself for allowing Merrill's small, adorable voice make her do things when her brain told her not to.

"Fine!" Isabela growled in frustration, pushing herself up from her make-shift bed and trudging her way over to where Hawke sat poking at the fire with a spare piece of wood.

When she sat down Hawke jumped, a sharp outtake of breath filling Isabela's ears for a moment before it vanished and the only sounds she heard was the wind howling and the waves crashing around Sundermount.

"Maker's mercy Isabela…" Hawke breathed out hoarsely, cold puffs of breath showing Isabela how cold the night air actually was. "Do you have to keep appearing out of nowhere? I almost screamed!"

"Sorry about that," Isabela yawned, not really feeling in the mood to tease Hawke any longer now that it was night. She was just too damned tired. "Just wanted to know what you were doing."

Hawke refused to meet Isabela's amber orbs, turning her attention back onto the wood she held in her hand; examining the red embers with genuine fascination. "I'm creating a light show."

Okay, scratch that. She was going to tease Hawke mercilessly at this. A _light show? _Oh _come on._

Snorting wildly at the apostate, Isabela nudged Hawke with her shoulder; still giggling even when Hawke turned to glare heatedly at her.

"I don't get what's so funny," Hawke whispered heatedly at the snorting pirate, nudging back to gain Isabela's attention back onto the crimson embers that rested upon the wood in her hand. "Just shut up and watch this."

Isabela raised an amused brow as Hawke blew on the embers of the wood, getting ready to snort once more at the look on the apostate's face when all of a sudden the embers flew up into the cold air and started to form an image that closely resembled a…

"Oh that's…" Isabela's jaw dropped as the embers started to drift closer towards her, glowing more brightly whenever Isabela tried to touch it - warning her against her actions. "It's a _ship_."

The embers had formed into a ship that closely resembled the Siren's Call (though how Hawke knew what it looked like was lost on her) and was starting to fly through the air, looking like the ship of embers was being rocked by a fierce thunderstorm or Qunari canons.

Isabela stared down at her boots, withholding a moan. Or maybe it was both Qunari canons and fierce thunderstorms.

"What? You don't like it?" Hawke nudged her with the side of her boot, motioning for the pirate to stare up at the ship. "I thought that maybe you'd like to see a ship again."

"Ach! Hawke! I do like it! I just…" Isabela felt as if she was suffocating all of a sudden and that was not a good feeling at all, not something she was used to and certainly not something that she'd like to feel again anytime soon. "Balls…It's lovely alright? Just put it away."

Hawke looked over from staring at the embers towards the oddly quiet Isabela, brow pinched in bewilderment. "And you said I was the stick in the mud. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Isabela snapped, feeling more and more like she was drowning in the air that surrounded her with every break she took. "Just make another shape or something."

At first Isabela didn't think Hawke was going to let it go, but soon enough the refugee turned to blow at the embers again; making them glow considerably brighter but not enough for the embers to take flight or change shape.

"Here you have a go," Isabela turned to see that the apostate had offered her the wood with a small smile, a change from Hawke's usual broody self.

"I'm not magic you know?" Isabela scoffed, taking the wood from Hawke's hands anyway with a roll of her eyes. "It won't work if I blow on it."

Isabela grinned luridly at her own words, making Hawke scowl at her again and prod at her side.

"Fine! I'll have a go." Isabela said angrily, wariness slowly starting to transform into irritation because of its origin. "But if nothing happens then…"

The embers shot up from the wood as soon as Isabela let out a breath on them, forming and twisting into a shape that made Isabela chuckle gleefully at the image of it.

Hawke sighed, shaking her head. "How did I know that was what it was going to be? A penis Isabela? Really?"

Isabela shot Hawke a sly wink. "That's your fault for telling me there'd be a light show."

Hawke actually _laughed_, blowing away the embers with a wave of her hand and a murmur. "You should get to sleep, it's going to get colder and it'll be harder for you to get to sleep if you don't start soon."

Isabela yawned in agreement, looking down at herself after a few moments to realize that she was still wearing Hawke's cloak back.

As she went to unfasten it a hand grabbed her wrist, stopping her movements immediately.

"Keep it," Hawke said softly with a curt nod of her head, releasing her grip on Isabela's wrist to gesture to the spot near Merrill's sleeping body. "I've got the fire. You've got the cloak."

"Aww," Isabela teased instantly at Hawke's words, running a finger down the apostate's right cheek. "You're adorable sweet thing, stupid but adorable."

Hawke grunted at that, pushing the joking pirate away from her. "Get to your bed. We've got a long day tomorrow. I'm sure the punters at the Hanged Man are missing you."

"They probably are sweet thing! They probably are!" Isabela called back with a another wink, throwing herself down next to Merrill with a chuckle.

When she looked up to see if the young elf was sleeping fine, Isabela was more than shocked to see Merrill's eyes wide awake - full of mirth and delight.

"Hawke really likes you Isabela!" Merrill said loudly, loud enough that Hawke must have heard and loud enough that Isabela found herself laughing uncontrollably at the young elf.

"I know she does Kitten, I know she does!" Isabela chortled giddily, glancing over Merrill's shoulder eagerly to see that Hawke was looking at them both; looking mortified.

"Ach! Shut up! Both of you! Get to sleep!" Hawke growled at them both, throwing something that felt like a spare blanket at Isabela's head. "If I hear another word out of you two then I'll make sure you both don't come back!"

Isabela sniggered.

"Shut up Isabela!"

"Alright! Keep your knickers on!"

* * *

_Again my lack of sleep has caused me to place this chapter in really fast. I'm sorry, sorry, SORRY if there are any glaring mistakes.  
__Oh and thank you all for the kind reviews. I appreciate them very much. =)_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"And then when Isabela got back she whipped off Hawke's cloak, pulled on her own and drank both me and Hawke under the table! Hah! Rivaini sure knew how to get us both whipped in a matter of moments!" Varric laughed, wiping a tear away from his eye and snorting.

He looked up at Cassandra, smiling arrogantly at the furious look that had shaped the Seeker's face. "Oh what now Seeker? Aren't you having fun learning about Isabela? She's an interesting person to know!"

Cassandra looked like she was ready to hit him, dark eyes holding a vicious fire so bright that it made Varric glance away for a mere second.

"You're not telling me something dwarf." Cassandra whispered slowly, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "The tome! What about the tome! I know something suspicious when I hear it."

"Now Seeker!" Varric chided with a small laugh, rearranging himself on his stone throne and sipping at his flask. "Why would you think I'm hiding something? It was just a dusty tome that Hawke could read! Isabela couldn't! Only included it because I take it you're a woman who likes her romance!"

Cassandra brought her gauntlet to her lips, chiding herself when she started to chew on the leather that was just visible to her - desperately trying to calm herself down, desperately trying not to snatch the skin out of the dwarf's hand and gulp down the ale herself.

"The tome dwarf! What was in it?" Cassandra said ferociously, reaching over to pick up a familiar book that immediately made Varric flinch as she brought it closer to his face. "Tell me what was in it dwarf or Maker help me Varric I'll…"

Varric held up his hands pleadingly, laughing nervously when the book started to get closer to his face - flinching at the font and at the memories it brought up. By Maker…He could still remember what that tome had brought on Hawke, what it had done, what it was still doing…

"Alright Seeker! I'll tell you!" Varric chuckled weakly, taking the book away from the Seeker and slamming it closed. "But first! Let me carry on with my tale! It'll soon lead you to the discovery of our Champion!"

"Varric no-"

But it was too late and Varric was continuing his tale with a forced smile on his lips.

* * *

"Whore I will break you!" Aveline growled at the grinning pirate, looking like she was ready to slam her fist against Isabela's face.

"All I'm asking is do you think Hawke's gorgeous under those tiny robes?" Isabela teased, sharing a grin with Varric before continuing her mockery. "I know you've seen her without it on! Come on big girl! Spill!"

Hawke groaned at them both, sinking her face into the palm of one of her hands - wondering if this torment was ever going to end because if it carried on then everybody in Lowtown would hear Isabela's and Aveline's banter with their eager, gossipy ears.

Fenris seemed to feel her pain because he too groaned at the conversation happening between the Guards Captain and the pirate, shooting a sympathetic look at Hawke and murmuring something that sounded apologetic.

"Isabela didn't you want to come to the Lowtown market for poisons?" Hawke asked the sniggering pirate all of a sudden, hoping desperately it would be enough to shut Isabela up without sounding like she was taking sides.

Isabela's face lit up at the mention of the poisons they had been looking for, smirking sultrily at the shorter woman. "Aha! We did, thanks for reminding me Hawke otherwise I'd of been discussing your body with Aveline for hours! And the whole of Lowtown would have heard too! What an embarrassment!"

Hawke felt her edge slipping. Usually she'd of punched someone in the face right now for being too damn cocky around her, but it seemed like Isabela was the only one who could get away with it without Hawke actually wanting to punch her repeatedly afterwards.

That single thought alone managed to terrify her in more ways than one.

Isabela's whistle broke Hawke from her train of thought, startling her even further when the pirate wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Well Hawke, I'm not trying to sound jealous but that gorgeous blonde over there keeps staring at your legs!"

Isabela laughed gleefully when Hawke's head snapped to where she was pointing, eyes full with mirth when Hawke's face seemed to twist into so many different expressions at once that it looked as if the apostate was having a seizure.

You see how nice I am? I'm giving you the chance to jump that blonde before I could have a try!" Isabela grinned wickedly, shaking Hawke's head with the tips of her fingers to try and get a reaction from the refugee. "You really do need more friends like me Hawke!"

Fenris, who had been browsing the wares a few feet way, shot Hawke a pitying look over his shoulder. "Be grateful Hawke that you don't have many friends like Isabela or we'd all end up Darktown."

"You took the words right out of my mouth Fenris." Aveline nodded in agreement, eyes narrowing when Isabela glared at her in response; openly challenging the pirate to do something.

Instead Isabela sighed into Hawke's cheek, shaking her head at the two warriors whilst wondering why Hawke hadn't moved away from her just yet - _she was _practically breathing on Hawke's cheek like a dog after all.

"I recognize her…" Hawke murmured with an awed-look, pushing Isabela away from her with a scowl before returning her gaze back onto the blonde woman selling her wares to citizens passing by. "Maker how could I not recognize her before?"

Aveline came up beside both Hawke and Isabela, a suspicious look making her eyes crease into slits as she too examined the blonde woman who had caught Hawke's attention. "Isn't that Elegant?"

"Pardon?" Isabela scoffed with a laugh, licking her dry lips when the blonde woman on the stall bent over to retrieve something from under her stall's table. "Did you say Elegant? Nobody's elegant around here big girl, it's Lowtown!"

"Hn." Hawke, who in Isabela's opinion had been flailing around like a bronto in heat at the mention of some woman named Elegant staring at her, recomposed her cold posture with a tight grimace on her lips. Obviously trying to remain calm, cool and collected all at the same time. "I haven't seen her for years. What in blazes name is she doing in Lowtown?"

Before Isabela could comment on Hawke's strange behaviour, the refugee had brushed past her and had hastily started walking through the crowds towards the stall where Elegant was selling her wares.

All three of them shared a questioning glance, followed by Fenris grunting and murmuring quietly. "This is pointless, it's obvious that Hawke and this Elegant woman has history together."

Isabela placed a hand on her hip, staring after Hawke with her lower lip trapped in between her teeth. "History? With Hawke?" She even gave Aveline a look that said 'are you jesting with me?' because _Hawke? History?_

Aveline looked even more surprised than she did, the warrior watching Hawke go with shock coating her eyes and disbelief turning Aveline's lips into a frown.

With a smirk, Isabela turned to follow Hawke into the crowd; ignoring both Fenris's and Aveline's pleas to leave the blonde and Hawke alone to sort out their…History.

Isabela just about managed to catch up with the apostate when Hawke was nearing Elegant's stall, grasping onto Hawke's shoulder to slow her down into a halt. "Hey, wait up! I want to hear what you're going to say to her!"

Hawke turned to glare at her again, something that Isabela had grown used to over time. "About what?"

Isabela shrugged sluggishly, allowing a knowing smile to grace her lips. "You know…About your _history_."

As Isabela expected, Hawke's expression got angrier and her body posture became more aggressive, her fingers curling into tight fists and her cold eyes swerving to the crowd where Aveline and Fenris were trying to push through to where Elegant was selling her wares.

"I'm not sure how this is any of your business Isabela," Hawke snapped, looking more and more like she was ready to explode at any given moment. "It certainly doesn't involve you to come with me!"

"Yes well…" Isabela said with a pout, folding her arms and giving Hawke a haughty look. "I am _nosey_! And blissfully charming! Come on Hawke, this is a face you can't say no to!"

Isabela proceeded to pout, batting her eyelashes which of course Isabela knew made her look ridiculous. Ridiculously attractive, that is.

Hawke quirked a brow at her. "You're nothing but an infuriating pirate wench who is after nothing but my crotch."

"So you've caught on!" Isabela teased with a shrill laugh, throwing an arm over Hawke's shoulder and forcing the refugee to walk towards Elegant's stall. "Now time to face destiny, eh Hawke?"

Despite how much she pushed and pulled to get out of Isabela's grasp, Hawke could do nothing but squirm and curse angrily at the pirate as she was dragged forward; only stopping when they were in front of Elegant's stall and the blonde had looked up from browsing through her wares.

Elegant's eyes instantly widened and (to Isabela's delight) Hawke's instantly narrowed in displeasure.

"Hawke! What a pleasure it is to see you again!" Elegant said with a charming smile, bowing her head a little in greeting. "And you too Aveline! It has been so long!"

Isabela turned to see that both the Guards Captain had joined them, Aveline looking more wary than usual and Fenris staring blankly at Elegant as he always did when it came to strangers.

"Greetings Elegant." Hawke's face remained expressionless as she bowed her own head in greeting, looking and feeling stiff under Isabela's arm around her shoulders - only there in case Hawke decided to bolt. "It is surprising to see you here in Lowtown."

"Very surprising," Aveline commented dryly, distrust thickly coating her words. "Shouldn't you be in Hightown with your husband? I've heard his been looking for you for a few days now. His getting worried."

"Oh Aveline your distrust is always something I've been bothered about!" Elegant said with a cheerful chuckle, waving her hand to dismiss Aveline's suspicion. "My husband has no reason to worry! I've received no white lilies of late! Well, apart from my mother but she's always sent me death wishes since I was five! Alas, we've never got on."

Isabela laughed heartily at that, giving the blonde woman a wink. "Tell me about it, mothers never really do hold daughters like us dear do they?"

Not that she had ever spoken to her mother since a very young age, but still, Isabela doubted that her mother still remembered her.

Elegant smiled pleasantly at her, but still her eyes were only locked on Hawke and that was more than enough to keep Isabela smirking.

"So Hawke," Elegant started with another smile (Hawke tensed underneath Isabela's arm soon after) and a fond look. "How has life in Kirkwall been treating you? I hope it was worth it seeming as how you worked so hard to get into the city. With my help of course."

Hawke - realizing that Isabela still had her arm wrapped around her shoulders - shrugged the pirate off with a scowl, glaring daggers at Isabela before answering Elegant with a steely look in her icy eyes. "Yes the city is fine. And yes your help was very much appreciated, but that is the past and I am not one to dwell on the past."

Aveline interjected at hearing the hostility in Hawke's tone, looking at Hawke cautiously - almost afraid to talk knowing how Hawke was feeling at the precise moment.

"You're talking about the supplies that you gave to Athenril, right?" Aveline asked the refugee, looking more and more concerned when Hawke didn't start to answer her. "Hawke? The supplies?"

Elegant tilted her face downwards to hide her smile, bringing her face back up when the laughter got too much for her to contain. "Ah yes Hawke, the supplies. Of course, the supplies!"

Isabela laughed out loud, noticing the way Elegant's eyes seemed to darken and how all of a sudden the young blonde woman couldn't help but stare at Hawke's neck and breasts - looking every bit like a cat ready to pounce.

"Oh I know that look!" Isabela purred at the blonde woman, causing for Fenris to grunt and shake his head at her reaction. "You've got a story to share haven't you? About Hawke?"

For the first time since meeting the young blonde woman, Isabela actually managed to get Elegant's smile to waver off Hawke and onto her - an accomplishment she was extremely proud of considering the circumstances.

"Everyone who worked for me has a story about Hawke," Elegant said lowly, a seductive look caressing her features after a few moments as she drank Isabela in fully. "If you want to hear more then meet me at the Hanged Man at eight tonight."

Elegant brought her eyes back on Hawke (who was broodingly scowling at Elegant with pursed lips) and gestured for the mage to take her handkerchief that held Elegant's crest. "And that goes for you too Hawke, no later than eight or I'll be cross with you. You always were the one to _come late._"

Hawke's expression remained vacant; cool, detached, aloof and frosty but the way her foot shifted slightly to the right signalled to Isabela that what Elegant had said somehow had managed to _bother_ Hawke.

Plus the implication that Isabela had caught was enough to make her giggle slightly. Alas she was _so_ childish.

"Well maybe if you tried harder it wouldn't have taken me so long to do anything but struggle to act like I enjoyed doing your dirty work." Hawke whispered sulkily, placing a tousled lock behind her ear. "But of course, you're nothing less than elegant are you?"

Fenris coughed, uncomfortable at how the conversation had went in a matter of seconds.

Aveline looked aghast at what she was hearing, looking as if she was still in disbelief on what she was hearing.

Isabela looked at the two women, eyes wide with amusement. "Shit! This is vicious! And to think I thought you were mild Hawke!"

Elegant looked even more amused at that than she had before. "Hawke? Mild? Oh I mustn't spoil it! You'll hear more about it at the Hanged Man. You'll come of course."

Hawke glowered at the blonde woman, wondering why she had walked over to talk to Elegant in the first place.

"We'd be delighted to come!" Isabela intruded before Hawke could say anything, feeling the excitement start to build up in her stomach at the thought of knowing all of Hawke's past dirty little secrets.

"What?" Hawke snapped at her, eyes boring holes into Isabela's own eyes, looking fiercer than ever. "When did you become the owner of my decisions?"

Elegant ignored the both of them, shooting them all a fleeting smile as she turned to serve her next customer. "Eight! Don't forget!"

Isabela answered Hawke's glare with a smile. "You can thank me later."

"I won't be doing that."

* * *

That was how Isabela found herself with company for the night, feet propped up on the table in her room; a bottle of old wine in one hand and her other grasping down hard onto the hilt of Heartbreaker as she examined it in the dim light provided by the lamp in her room.

"You do know Hawke won't come right?" Isabela chuckled dryly, placing the bottle down to instead grab an apple she had rested on a table. "She'd rather spend a whole day with Carver than come here knowing you're waiting for her."

Elegant just smiled smugly at her, reaching for her goblet of wine and letting her lips caress the cold metal as she drank.

"You don't know Phoenix Hawke like I do," Elegant said once she had placed her goblet down, smiling like a chesire cat. "She'll be here. But an hour after. Maybe two. It's how she works."

Isabela hid the surprise from spreading over her face, intrigued at how this woman knew so much about Hawke and why. Why did this woman know so much about her? Sure it was obvious they had been intimate but did it go deeper than that?

Not that Isabela truly cared if it went deeper than that, she was just wondering what on earth Hawke was hiding in that big, giant, broody head of hers.

"So how do you know so much about bird girl?" Isabela asked with a tilt of her head, cocking it to the side to gesture to Elegant that was listening, absorbedly. "You've only known her for a year, right?"

"And you less than that if I assume correctly?" Elegant shot back and it was clear to the pirate that Hawke held a special place in the blonde woman's heart. "She is not a hard person to figure out."

"That's not evasive," Isabela remarked with a click of her tongue, pushing herself further back in her chair. "What's so strange about birdy that you're too afraid to tell me about?"

Elegant's eyes narrowed at her, the blonde that she had been joking with a few moments ago disappearing completely. "You know how Hawke spent a year earning her way into Kirkwall?"

At Isabela's nod, Elegant grinned. "Well. Most of her work wasn't for Athenril but for me instead. And my girls of course."

Isabela failed at biting back her laughter at the blonde woman's words. "What? Are you telling me that you allowed Hawke to sleep with you and the rest of your little 'family?' For payment into Kirkwall? That is bloody _delicious_."

"It's not something she's proud of," Elegant murmured into her goblet, stirring the dark liquid with her index finger. "But at least we both got what we wanted in the end. Me, the sex. Her, entry into Kirkwall."

"So…" Isabela drawled, eyes lighting up at the images of Hawke and Elegant wrapped up in one another as they rutted like the animals that some distant father figure had made them to be. "How was the sex? What's she like?"

Elegant's lips quirked in amusement. "Curious are you?"

Isabela shrugged, ruffling her own hair and taking a long swig from the bottle of alcohol. "It's Hawke we're talking about, of course I'm curious! So, sexual prowess? Nay?"

"Oh most definitely!" Elegant answered with a devilish look in her eyes, placing her goblet down with a chortle. "Hawke always topped even though she's so much shorter. Maker bless whoever made her such a short ass."

"She _is_ on the short side…" Isabela admitted, remembering how easy it was to fling her arm around Hawke's shoulders due to how short the younger woman was. "How did she manage to get on top? Her ickle arms and legs must have had a hard time trying to keep up."

"Please Isabela remember who you're talking about," Elegant sighed briskly, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. "Hawke has her uses for such a short individual. She's got strong thighs that's for sure, and that is particularly useful considering which position Hawke forces on me."

"Strong thighs? Nice."

A sharp knock broke both Isabela and Elegant's conversation, silencing them enough that Isabela could hear herself breathe shallowly at the interruption that had managed to startle her so much that it caused her heart to beat faster.

"Who is it?" Isabela called gruffly, getting out from her seat with her bottle in one hand and her other hand reaching forward to open her door. "Because if it's you Varric then I told you that I'm busy and I don't have time to play Wicked Grace with you! Ask Norah!"

"It's me." Hawke's hoarse growl answered her and immediately Isabela flung the door to her room open, pleased to see that Hawke had changed from her old sweaty robes into the robes she wore when she patrolled around Lowtown with Brennan.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Isabela winked with a sly click of her tongue, gazing appreciatively at Hawke's nightly robes. "And I'm not even ready for you either Hawke! How dashing!"

Hawke arched a brow at her, obviously not in the mood for her games by how she glanced over Isabela's shoulder in distaste before returning her gaze back onto her with her lip curled in anger. "What's she doing here? In your _room?_"

Isabela leant on the pane of her door, looking luridly at Hawke through her long lashes. "Oh sweet thing, lighten up! You would be in my room if you only let me persuade you inside."

"Tch as if I'd let you," Hawke scoffed with a roll of her eyes, reaching past to grab hold of the door knob behind Isabela's arm and pulling it closed, shutting Elegant in the pirate's room all by her lonesome. "Now come on. We're going for a walk around Hightown."

Isabela pressed herself against the door to her room, hands gripped tightly around the knob behind her. "I don't think so Birdy, me and Elegant was having a pleasant conversation about how you managed to get your way into Kirkwall a year back."

Isabela expected Hawke to turn red, instead the refugee merely glanced at her with frustration in her cold, dark eyes and gestured to the door of the Hanged Man with a tilt of her head.

When Isabela didn't move, Hawke sighed and grasped the bottle away from Isabela's hands; turning away to clomp down the stairs of the Hanged Man and towards the exit.

"Hey! That's my bottle! Give it back!" Isabela called after the apostate, charging forward past Norah and Fredrick to chase Hawke out into the streets of Lowtown. "Wait until I catch you Hawke! You'll regret stealing that bottle! It was vintage! Vintage!"

Hawke's throaty chuckle made Isabela turn to the right, watching with horror as Hawke drank the last of the bottle - throwing it to the ground with a smash once she was done.

The refugee wiped at her mouth, gagging at the aftertaste of the bottle. She then stared up at Isabela, her smug smirk making Isabela's skin crawl. "Not bad for a short ass, right Isabela?"

Isabela shook her head, grinning wildly. "You curt little shit. Did you want to talk about something important or just wanted to drink my beer?"

Hawke called her forward with a finger, and to Isabela's disgust, she followed the order eagerly.

* * *

_Isabela and Elegant are such lesbians discussing Hawke like a prized bull. But Elegant was so…gorgeous! :O How could I not think 'well Hawke and Elegant…Oh sorry, Lady Elegant.'  
__I'm such a lesbian. ;)  
More Hawke/Isabela coming up and soon enough they'll be going into the Deep Roads. Things will get more plot-based then instead of little snippets. _


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Hawke gazed at the tome in her hands with a puzzled look, flicking through the pages with growing frustration.

Why could nobody but her read the tome? It seemed ridiculous that not even Merrill or Anders knew how to read it, despite how much they tried and used their magic to translate the words into a script they could read both of them had failed and that left Hawke looking at an unknown tome by herself as Carver slept next to her, snoring loudly.

By the candlelight she couldn't see much but it lit up a few pictures enough that Hawke got the general gist of it; fire, ice, thunder and…

She turned the book to the side in the candlelight, eyes narrowing as the familiar print of colour started to sharpen in her sleepy state. Red spurts of colour was splattered across the page, making the yellow pasty pages turn a bright pink colour around the corners of the pages.

Hawke's determination was the one thing that kept her from slamming the book closed, the other being that despite what the tome obviously showed her the curiosity was there at the back of her mind - tempting her to read further on and on until her eyes got swallowed up in script.

At first the script was nothing but meaningless words that Hawke understood, but didn't necessarily understand how they told her anything about the tome and what it contained, however soon enough the script started to wipe away until all that was left was a blank page of crimson.

"What?" Hawke murmured in confusion, biting her lip and flipping through more of the pages of the tome just to see the same result on every other page inside the tome. Her frustration rose to greater heights and soon Hawke found herself start to grow hotter as her fiery anger started to take over her mind completely, the tips of her fingers starting to glow red until she dropped the tome in fear it would burn.

The temperature in the room had also grown hotter in her anger and after a few moments of ignoring the stifling heat, Hawke was greeted with Carver groaning angrily as he got up from his cot; glaring at her with sweat across his brow.

"Are you mad?" He grumbled, running a hand through his sweaty, long hair. "It's summer and you're practicing your magic inside? While I'm sleeping?"

Forgetting that she herself was supposed to be asleep, Hawke turned on her brother with a growl. "Go sleep outside with Fergus then! It's not my fault you persist in sleeping next to my cot!"

Carver flushed with both embarrassment and annoyance. "I don't persist in sleeping next to your cot! It's where Mother told me to sleep! And if you're so bothered by my whining then go outside yourself!"

"I didn't mean to practice magic while you were sleeping Carver," Hawke managed to get out through gritted teeth, patience slipping further than usual due to her own annoyance at the tome's failure of letting her in. "I was just reading this tome here and thought I'd be able to read some of it without waking you up."

Carver flopped back onto his cot, angrily staring up at the rotten shack's ceiling. "Why can't you just be a normal woman and go outside with Merrill, Aveline and even Isabela! Normal women don't spend their nights cramped up in their oddly-smelling room reading tomes!"

"Normal men aren't virgins at this age," Hawke grunted, hiding a smile as she pulled the tome up to her face once more. "And here you are Carver, proud and tall and desperately aching for a woman's touch."

Phoenix clicked her tongue when she heard Carver's head hit the cot above him, making her younger brother curse angrily. "S-shit! You bloody fool! I'm not aching for anything you worthless-"

"I apologize brother," Hawke replied dryly with another click of her tongue, circling the corners of the tome's pages with her nails. "What you're looking for is a man's touch, how could I have been mistaken? I should have known!"

Instead of retorting angrily at her like Hawke had expected, Carver chuckled wryly and once more got up from his cot to sit next to his sister with his eyes staring deep into her own.

"Don't let Mother hear you say that," he began, rubbing at a sore muscle on his back with a muffled groan. "She already knows that you're off the market with Isabela at your heels."

"Tch," Hawke scoffed with a roll of her eyes, dropping the tome onto her lap with a sigh. "Where she gets these rumours from I'll never know. Me and Isabela are strictly platonic."

"Apart from when she's trying to seduce you into her crummy room," Carver sneered arrogantly, looking at the tome of magic that was in his sister's lap with suspicion. "I'm surprised you've held off this long considering how you were in Lothering…"

Hawke sighed at her younger brother, scowling at him when Carver arched two fine brows at her - challenging her to argue back with him.

She took the challenge with an open palm.

"Unlike you Carver I've grown up since then," Hawke answered back with her own arched brows, hoping that her anger wouldn't be laced with how soft-spoken she was being at the moment. "Besides, it's not my fault you weren't man enough to actually lie with someone."

Carver turned his face away from her, but by his silence Hawke could tell that he was furious with her for bringing his virginity up - even though there was nobody else in said room but the two of them.

"Sorry." Hawke grumbled a few seconds later, not feeling very sorry at all; and why should she? Carver had become nothing but an insufferable prick ever since Kirkwall and even though she did love him despite his faults, Hawke was starting to lose her patience with him and his complete lack of regard for what was happening around him.

"You're not." Carver spat back, his eyes hardened in anger and pain that overwhelmed Hawke enough that all of a sudden her throat felt very dry and hoarse - robbing her of speech. "You're only sorry when something bad happens to you or the people around you! Or are you this emotionless cold stone now?"

Hawke avoided Carver's piercing eyes, gripping hard onto the material of her clothing (she had still not changed into her night robes) to try and ease away the stress that was causing her brow to knit in aggravation.

"Might as well be!" Carver continued to rant at her, turning around to face Hawke fully with his anger clearly plastered onto his face. "You weren't much of a living, breathing human when you let Bethany die on your watch! Right _sister?_"

Hawke got up abruptly at that, knocking the tome off her lap and sending it crashing onto the floorboards, breathing heavily with the strain of not letting her fist fly through the air to connect with her younger brother's face.

She felt as if the air had been knocked out of her, felt as if Carver had wrapped his strong hands around her throat and had squeezed tightly, felt as if she was flying and falling at the same time as the angry euphoria made her head spin and heart race wildly.

Hawke shut her eyes tight, the darkness was welcoming and almost familiar because only she could shape this darkness, only could she decide if she wanted to wrap herself around in its cloak or if she wanted it to open wide and reveal all the harsh truths she had been hiding from herself in order to feel less pain at Bethany's death.

And maybe these metaphors were getting too out of hand.

With a forced cough, Hawke strained herself to speak; cringing slightly as the words tumbled past her lips. "Is that all you wanted to say Carver? To blame me for Bethany's death? I know that I was the one to blame for that. I wasn't…Fast enough."

She turned to address her younger brother once more, feeling her anger start to heat the room again. "Mother blamed me enough for Bethany's death, placing it on my shoulders because she knew as well as I do that you wouldn't be able to handle it!"

Carver stared open-mouthed at her, the anger on his face had lessened to shock and it was that look that made Hawke turn her back on him to hide her own fury that was bubbling in her stomach.

"I'm going out," she grunted, pulling on her cloak and grabbing her staff that she leant across their bedroom wall. "Maybe it'll give you enough time to calm that anger of yours down."

She opened their door, lugging her sleepy body out of it before heading towards the door where Fergus was barking excitedly at her through the shack's one window.

"Where are you going?" Carver called after her, sounding surprisingly calm considering the fight they had both been apart of. "You know Mother doesn't like it when you're out late at night!"

Hawke threw a scowl over her shoulder, opening the door and letting the cool air brush over her face as she stepped out of Gamlen's shack, before answering. "I'm going to find Isabela! She's more infuriating than you are but at least she's something to look at!"

She slammed the door shut, feeling bewildered at how she had just admitted that she found Isabela pretty to look at.

Her anger faded and her mind calmed, Hawke glanced down at her excited mabari Fergus with a defeated look.

"I'm going insane aren't I?" She murmured at the pup, shaking her head when Fergus just whined and pawed at her feet. "Admitting Isabela is pretty and all. Damn it all she's worming her way into my head! And she's doing it on purpose!"

Fergus barked at her angrily, making her jump slightly and look down at the pup in shock.

"What?" She growled, jogging down the shack's stairs with a sigh. "You trying to tell me to shut up and get over it?"

Fergus wagged his tail happily at her, confirming what she had said with another bark as he too padded down the steps and around the corner to follow her.

Hawke smirked at the mabari pup, clicking her fingers to signal the hound closer to her side - stepping through the alleyway towards the Hanged Man; already hearing Isabela's shrieks and Varric's laughter before she had got close enough to enter the building.

She stopped at the door of the tavern, suddenly unable to remove at the sound of the laughter and cheers coming from inside, feeling as if she walked into the tavern then she'd suddenly drown it out by her presence.

Hawke rubbed the back of her hand against her sweaty forehead, looking down at Fergus with narrowed eyes. "What do you think I should do?"

Fergus ignored her completely and stormed into the tavern, his loud barking silencing the tavern completely for a moment before a loud uproar of '_FERGUS!_' and Isabela's and Varric's yell of '_HAWKE!_' thundered through Hawke's ears.

Hawke cringed at the sound of footsteps rushing towards her, feeling more and more like she was setting herself up for a night that she'd regret.

* * *

Isabela threw the tavern door open with a laugh, grinning widely at the sight of a bedraggled looking Hawke who was wrapped up tightly in her velvet cloak; her signature morose look on her face.

"Well aren't you happy tonight? You even brought Fergus along!" Isabela slyly remarked, knowing very well that Hawke wasn't one to take Fergus on walks around Lowtown at this time of night.

Hawke met her eyes with her usual coldness, looking every bit intimidating as a worked up kitten who's ball of twine had been thrown away into the deepest places of Lowtown.

"I was taking Fergus out for a walk and he ran in here." Hawke answered with a curt nod past Isabela's shoulder, giving the former captain a strained smile in an effort to be polite. "Which is why I'm not staying, now will you go and get Fergus and get him out here?"

"You're a terrible liar Hawke!" Isabela said immediately, shocking Hawke's smile off her face instantly at her tone. "Come inside! I haven't had a drink with you for a while!"

Hawke growled when Isabela tugged her inside, but Isabela was determined not to listen to Hawke's angry complaints and led the apostate to where both Varric and Fergus sat at a table; happily laughing as they drank their ale and whisky in delight.

She sat down Hawke with a pat to the mage's head, chuckling when Hawke gave her a glare in return. "Look who I found Varric! Hawke was just wondering around Lowtown! Looking for us I bet, eh?"

"I was looking for Fergus!" Hawke persisted with a sigh, sinking down into her chair at the realization that she was most likely not going to escape this anytime soon.

Varric patted the refugee's shoulder sympathetically, shaking his head at Isabela's laughter. "Don't worry Hawke, we won't keep you here! Just a few drinks yeah? Edwina! The gin!"

Isabela placed both of her hands on the apostate's shoulders, digging her nails into Hawke's thin robe. "You look stressed Hawke! What happened? Aveline said no to dampening the ol' -"

"Isabela!" Hawke snapped, shrugging her shoulders to get Isabela's hands off her with ease "Me and Aveline are not sleeping together! I already told you this! Stop spreading rumours!"

"Rumours!" Isabela mocked sincerity, placing a hand on her heart as she flopped down on the chair next to the refugee. "Me? Spread rumours? Did you hear that Varric? _Me?_"

"I heard Rivaini," the dwarf chuckled, taking the tray of gin away from Edwina with a wink, turning to face Hawke with a smirk. "Disappointing Hawke, you should know if there was a rumour being spread, it'd be by me and only me!"

Isabela gave Hawke the most winning smile she could muster, grabbing her mug of gin and gulping it down eagerly.

Hawke rolled her eyes, taking the only mug left and settling it in her lap with a grunt. "Is this the strongest thing they have here?"

Isabela shared a look with her dwarf companion, grinning mischievously when Varric winked at her and gestured for her to distract Hawke with a tilt of his head.

"Well sweet thing," she said with a drawl, reaching out to grasp Hawke's wrist that held the mug of gin. "Not exactly, but it'll get you drunk enough that you won't remember a thing tomorrow!"

"Now, now Isabela I'm sure Hawke doesn't want us getting her drunk," Varric reminded the pirate with wide eyes, turning to Hawke once more with a comfortable smile forming on his features. "Especially if you want to go back to Junior and tell him where to shove that sword of his, right?"

Isabela could tell herself by how the refugee ignored the dwarf that maybe Varric had hit a sore spot - a sore spot that Isabela exploited immediately.

"Oh ho! Drink up then Birdy because that's just the best way to fuel your anger!" Isabela cheered giddily, answering Fergus's barks with a laugh and a hand connecting with Hawke's back. "When you get home it'll be a night to remember for everyone!"

Hawke raised a brow at her, looking more amused than annoyed this time. "What? You think Mother would let me go home drunk? She'd force me to sleep out the front with Fergus!"

"Well if you're ever lonely…" Isabela teased with a smirk, taking the chance to run her hand through Hawke's thick locks again.

Hawke ignored Isabela's touch by gulping down the gin in her mug, averting the pirate's eyes and entwining her own with Varric's.

Varric smiled at her smugly, obviously enjoying the torment that Isabela was inflicting on the oldest Hawke. "Well Hawke, you've been getting around lately I hear. Isabela was kindly telling me about how you managed to wrestle your way into Kirkwall!"

Hawke snarled defensively at that, taking another long gulp of her gin with a moan escaping from her lips. "Isabela! I told you to keep that quiet! Who else have you told?"

Isabela threw her hands up in the air in defence. "Nobody else! Honest! Well some other people but they won't mention it to you! No worries!"

Varric sniffed hard to hide his snort. "And the rest of Hightown…" He mumbled into his gin, grinning when Hawke turned to stare at him, wide-eyed and furious.

"Varric! I told you not to mention that to Birdy, it was going to be a surprise!" Isabela chided mockingly, shaking her head in frustration while Varric laughed at her antics.

"I hate surprises." Hawke grumbled, nursing her mug in her lap and planting her face on the table with another groan. "All I wanted was to get away from Carver. And now I'm here."

"Being broody and sticking out like a sore-thumb!" Isabela said with a solemn nod of her head, patting Hawke's back sympathetically. "Don't worry Birdy, we'll get you gambling and singing with the rest of us!"

"Let's hope not!" Varric interjected with a loud snort. "That guy in the Hanged Man the other night was enough to make me want to go to the Merchant's Guild for a quiet business meeting with Bartrand! At least there wouldn't be no blasted singing!"

"I hate singing too." Hawke grumbled into the wood, moving her mouth away from the table for a second to drink her gin before slumping back down again. "I bloody hate singing! Maker's breath in Lothering the stupid Chantry sisters would all come along to sing every Solstice and it was just so damn annoying!"

Varric was about to intervene when Hawke slammed her fist onto the table, causing both Varric, Fergus and Isabela to jump at the impact.

"And that damn redheaded sister! Looking at Bethany like, like, like! Some piece of meat! Disgusting!" Hawke snarled with the another hand (this one gripping onto her mug) impacting with the table again. "I mean who does she think she is? Stupid Leliplanner! Or Leliwoner! Whatever her damn name is…"

"Leliana?" Both Varric and Isabela offered with a laugh, the realization that maybe Hawke was just a wee bit drunk dawning on them in a matter of moments when the refugee started to drink down her gin more greedily.

"Yes! Her! Stupid redheaded sister who kept offering me advice!" Hawke said gruffly, placing her mug down and reaching for an extra that had originally been for Fergus. "_You would look amazing if you smiled more! Or maybe if you let your hair grew longer! A prize such as yourself shouldn't have such messy hair like mine! Let it grow!_ Bah! Bethany had to hold me back from telling herself to bugger off!"

Isabela shared a glance with Varric before bursting out in laughter, reaching over to cradle Hawke's shoulders with her one arm and attempting to take away the mug from Hawke's hands as gently as she could.

"Hawke! You're drunk! You light-weight you!" She sniggered once she had managed to tug away Hawke's mug with little struggle once she had gripped the refugee by the back of her neck. "Oh I won't ever let you live this down when you're sober!"

"I'm not drunk!" Hawke persisted with a hiccup, her cold blue eyes softening until it looked like the refugee was going to burst into tears. "I'm just…What's that word where you feel good?"

Isabela looked down at the bedraggled Hawke with glee, pulling Hawke closer until the refugee's chin was resting on her shoulder. "Hawke, I think you're feeling aroused."

"Whaat?" Hawke pulled away, confused mixed with displeasure making the frown appear on her face that much more appealing to the former captain. "I don't feel anything like that! I feel good!"

"Andraste's dimpled bum-cheeks Hawke!" Varric said with a small laugh, wiping away the tears that were starting to prick at the corners of his eyes. "I've never seen someone fall drunk so fast! What did you put in that gin Edwina?"

"I ain't put nothing in there apart from that stuff Corff left on the counter!" Edwina called back hastily, attempting to fight off Fredrick's groping hands and another patron's slurred flirtations. "He said that Hawke likes that stuff!"

"I think he meant you Rivaini," Varric remarked with a shake of his head, reaching over to close Hawke's drowsy eyelids with a finger. "But that doesn't mean we leave her here! Help me take her to your room or we'll have a good old telling off by Red if she finds out that Hawke got drunk on our watch!"

"My room?" Isabela said with a wild look in her eyes, breaking out into a grin at the thoughts that crossed her mind at her friend's words. "Oh Varric that just made several delicious images pop into my head."

Varric grinned at her smugly as he tucked Hawke's left arm over his head and wrapped a hand around the apostate's waist. "Well Rivaini, I'm sure you'll think of something to tell Hawke when she wakes up tomorrow! Until then, time to board Captain Isabela!"

"Ahoy!" Isabela answered with a laugh, holding the staggering Hawke up and with Varric's help, lugged her through the corridor until she got to her room that she had left open - knowing that most of the men weren't as foolhardy to go into her room without leaving limping afterwards; even if she wasn't in there to apprehend them!

"Where are you taking me?" Hawke whispered drowsily in her sleep, trying to pull away from them both with a yawn and a grunt.

"To a magical land known as Isabela's Fluffy Ship where dwarves are tall and elves are lanky!" Isabela replied with her lips pressed cheekily to the apostate's cheek. "And broody refugees are actually sober!"

"Sounds fun…" Hawke grumbled with another yawn, slumping down harder onto Isabela's side. "Will Carver be there?"

"Hah! Junior? Depends if Rivaini wants him there or not right?" Varric said with a smirk, helping Hawke climb up the last of Isabela's room's stairs. "Now come and lie down before you start to froth at the mouth!"

With an upward twist of her lips, Isabela plopped the apostate down with a light-hearted chuckle; helping Varric nudge Hawke's feet onto the bed properly when Hawke tried to roll off the bed.

"Alright Rivaini! Keep an eye on Hawke then!" Varric instructed, turning to walk out of Isabela's rented room. "Me and Fergus have a game of Wicked Grace to finish off! He's got me down by one!"

"What? You want me to stay with this drunken idiot while you two play a game of Wicked Grace without me?" Isabela said with a pout; glaring when Hawke's arm unconsciously hit her in the stomach.

"That drunken idiot…" Varric slurred with a smirk, grabbing hold of the door as he clambered down the first step. "Is your responsibility for the night Isabela! Have fun Rivaini!"

"Varric!" Isabela growled and lunged at the door, kicking it haughtily when she found out quickly they it wouldn't budge and when she tried to pick the lock that she managed to jam it. "Oi! Get your ass back here Varric! She's not my responsibility!"

With another frustrated groan and kick at the door, Isabela whirled back round to moodily slump in the spare chair by her bed; eyes glued onto Hawke's sleeping form with annoyance clear in them.

"Don't think you're getting away with sleeping in my bed," Isabela muttered to Hawke's sleeping form with a roll of her eyes, nudging the side of Hawke's face with the tip of her boot. "That's my bed! You can't sleep there Hawke!"

Hawke groaned at her in her sleep, turning onto her stomach with an animalistic growl that made Isabela draw her foot away hastily at the image of the apostate eating her boot.

"Fine you can sleep there!" Isabela agreed when Hawke tried to grab at her other foot that she had propped up at the end of her bed. "But don't think I'm letting you forget this! Just wait until you wake up tomorrow!"

With that Isabela settled into her selected chair, thinking of the endless possibilities that would cause Hawke to have a seizure tomorrow when she woke up.

* * *

"Hawke get up!"

Hawke felt herself stir slightly at the harsh words whispered into her ear, eyes remaining shut as she reached out to brush against someone's face with her fingertips - trying to poke them away from her.

"Go away," she grumbled with another grunt. She couldn't recognize the voice but it was obvious that it was either Mother or Aveline speaking to her - nobody else dared to command her without fearing a punch in the face. "I'm sleeping with the hangover from hell."

"Well sweet thing if you don't move then I'm going to have to sit on your face, just like I did last night."

Hawke's sleep-addled brain perked up at the familiar words and soon she recognized that the person who was commanding her to get up was none other than Isabela.

"Go away you filthy…" Hawke let herself trail off, her eyes slamming open as she slowly started to familiarize herself with the words that had reached her ears.

She sat up quickly, banging her head on the cupboard above and swearing loudly when she heard Isabela muffle a laugh. "Shitting blazing tits! Isabela! What are you doing in my room?"

"Your room? Birdy I don't remember your room smelling this great!" Isabela answered her with a laugh and the sound of something hitting wood reached Hawke's ears.

Hawke wrinkled her nose at the smell of sour ale, piss and vomit that signalled to her that she was in the Hanged Man and not in her shack of a house; retching when it started to become too much.

And then Isabela's words clicked more firmly, startling Hawke once more that she looked up to see that the pirate wore something else entirely different than what she normally wore; something that suspiciously looked like…

"My robe!" Hawke yelled in shock, standing up from Isabela's bed and grasping the soft cotton in her palms - unintentionally pulling the pirate closer to her. "What in Andraste's name are you doing with my robe on?"

Isabela cocked a brow at her, smirking with that knowing smile Hawke found rather stupidly attractive. "I was cold after we were finished and you were hogging the sheets so I found this rather attractive robe and put it on! It's a shame that I couldn't wake you up to force you put my clothes on! I'm sure you'd look like a gorgeous whore!"

Hawke felt a soft chill caress her spine and when she looked down she realized that she wore only a thin sheet of a nightdress that could hardly be called a nightdress seeming as it didn't leave much to the imagination.

And at _that_ realization Hawke saw red.

"Oh Maker's breath…" She whispered in defeat, bringing a hand up to cover her eyes so that it'd shield Isabela away from her line of sight. "Please tell me we didn't…"

"Did what sweet thing?" Isabela asked innocently and Hawke could just imagine the pirate laughing at her again behind her hands.

"Forget it!" Hawke growled with a determined shake of her head, telling herself that whatever happened it wouldn't happen again; she'd just be more careful, tell Isabela to back off, not drink at all…Hell she'd even dedicate her life to the Chantry if she had to! "Just give me my robe back so I can go home and have a bath."

"That's a bit insulting you know…" Isabela purred with her trademark grin, unfastening the buckles of Hawke's robes and letting herself slip out the fabric with a laugh at how red Hawke's ears turned. "I surely can't have been that bad!"

Despite how much she didn't want to, Hawke smirked and let her eyes drop to the floor. "I meant a cold bath."

"Oh?" Even Hawke knew that what she had said had managed to pique Isabela's interest. "Better hurry up then! I really don't want to talk to your mother about why you were with me last night. How awkward would that be, eh?"

"I'm sure she'd be jumping for joy and would invite you over for dinner," Hawke grumbled with a snort, reaching for her padded robe and pulling it over her head with another grunt. "Which is why she won't be finding out."

Hawke watched from the corner of her eye as Isabela crossed her arms, her lower lip jutted out in disappointment. "You're taking this well Birdy! I thought you'd be after my blood after our little _tryst_…"

"I am taking this well aren't I?" Hawke agreed with a curt nod of her head before gesturing to the boots that she had been wearing when she woke up. "But the fact that I'm wearing boots sort of gave it away, don't you think?"

Isabela made a choking noise, looking like she was desperately trying to think of an answer and eventually just falling silent with her lips parted in shock at how she had managed to forget such a simple thing.

Hawke smirked arrogantly at her and turned to open the door (Isabela was sure that blasted thing was jammed) to the main area of the Hanged Man.

"I'll see you around. Thanks ever so much for the rough tryst." Hawke said with a laugh that sounds so hollow and smooth at the same time that Isabela snapped out of her trance and followed Hawke through the main area of the Hanged Man, calling after her.

"Hey! Get back here Hawke!" Isabela shouted at the top of her voice, stepping over tables and drunken patrons with ease - almost like she had mastered such a trick. "We can always rectify the drunken, rough tryst and make it not just a fantasy! HEY!"

Hawke had already left before Isabela could try and call for her again, leaving the pirate feeling severely put out.

Varric came up beside her with his jacket hung low around his waist, Bianca in one hand and some oil in the other; looking smug at the outcome of things. "Well Rivaini and here I thought you might have been able to pull it off. What the heck happened in there?"

Isabela just about opened her mouth to answer when all of a sudden Merrill rushed in along with a out of breath Aveline, looking like she had just had a prophecy of the sky falling down upon her.

"H-hawke told me to come in here! She said that something amazing had happened!" Merrill gave both Isabela and Varric an excited look, bouncing on her toes whilst Aveline stood silently next to her - not looking half as amused as her companion at being there.

"Like what Daisy?" Varric asked with a fond glint in his eye that only ever appeared when it came to Merrill.

"I don't know!" Merrill exclaimed with enthusiasm still lacing her words and tone. "Was it something dirty?"

Isabela found herself wanting to break something - particularly Hawke's legs - with a fiery passion.

"I wish Kitten." She grumbled before moving away to order drink - because _hell_ she needed one.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Why won't this blasted thing work?" Hawke yelled in frustration, picking up the tome that she had collected and throwing it against Merrill's wall - ignoring the squeak that escaped the elf's mouth as the tome collided with her wall.

Anders, who was already disquiet at being in Merrill's house and away from his clinic, knelt down to pick the book up with a shake of his head.

Isabela watched quietly in the darkest corner of Merrill's house, using her own rogue's stealth to hide her away from the sight of the three mages; all of them looking very different - Hawke just looked angry, Merrill looked a little scared and Anders impatient.

Isabela had to resist clicking her tongue at the sight, instead leaning further back into the shadows of Merrill's house with a smile creeping on her face as another book hit the wall.

"I've tried Hawke but it won't show me anything!" Anders persisted when another book flew at him, trying hard not to get hit at the same time as trying to keep Merrill's home nice and tidy. "I think maybe it's just best that we leave that book alone! It obviously doesn't want us looking at it!"

Hawke stormed up to the taller mage and snatched the book from his hand, flicked through the pages once more, then realizing that it hadn't changed a bit since she had last looked, threw it once more at the wall with a growl.

Anders shook his head at the refugee in response, once more kneeling and picking up the book with a bitter laugh. "Because throwing the book is going to help isn't it?"

"It certainly makes me feel better!" Hawke snapped and Isabela bit her lip to stop herself from laughing when the mage started to pace up and down Merrill's house with her brow furrowed in rage. "How can that stupid book not work? I've tried absolutely everything I can think of and it doesn't show me anything!"

"Have you tried using magic on the pages?" Anders offered though from the look on his face Isabela could tell the healer was quickly losing his patience with Hawke.

"Of course I have!" Hawke answered back with another snarl escaping her lips; her pacing getting faster - so fast that Isabela almost thought Hawke was going to collapse a few times due to how fast the apostate was pacing up and down. "It just doesn't work!"

"Well I've tried all I can think of Hawke," Anders said with a shrug of his shoulders, flicking through the pages once more before placing it down on Merrill's table with a sigh. "You've just got to face the facts that maybe whatever is in this book doesn't want to be read."

"Or maybe…" Hawke whispered, narrowing her cold eyes at the healer dangerously. "We're just not doing the right thing! This could be the discovery of a life-time Anders! Don't you want to find out? Aren't you curious?"

Isabela rolled her eyes, rearranging herself in her corner and staring at the tome that rested on Merrill's table - curious and surprised to see that the tome had been the one they had found up Sundermount two months ago. Why would Hawke keep such a useless thing for so long? Despite the magic potential obviously. It didn't look like it was worth much either - it looked pathetically useless.

"I am curious yes…" Anders replied with a stiff nod that was entirely unconvincing. "But I don't think we should risk looking at such a thing if we have no idea what is inside!"

Just as Hawke was about to retort with another bitter reply, Merrill put up her hand with such eagerness that it took Hawke a few moments to recognize that Merrill was asking for her permission to speak.

Isabela smirked at the shocked look that crossed Hawke's face - relishing it and storing it away for future moments - at how utterly foreign it looked on the apostate's face compared to the cold, calm look Hawke normally kept.

Hawke nodded curtly at Merrill's hand, turning her back on the elven girl to pace some more around the house; looking frustrated, nervous and fuming all at the exact same time.

"Well there's always the other way you know?" Merrill said quietly with a bright smile lighting her face up when Hawke stopped to look over at the elf over her shoulder. "Or have you tried that?"

Hawke's lip curled into a grimace, unconsciously making Merrill shrink back further into her seat. "The other way? _What _other way?"

"Well I…" Merrill started with clear hesitation, looking more and more nervous at Hawke's cold eyes staring at her own, unblinking and demanding.

"She means blood magic!" Anders interrupted with a snort and a furious shake of his head, a look of complete rage washing over his features. "Because of course that will solve everything!"

Isabela felt her throat tighten when Hawke turned her back on her to face the elven girl, her muscles taught and the way Hawke's back stiffened signalled to Isabela that the apostate was shocked at Merrill's answer.

"Blood magic?" Instead of sounding angry like Isabela had thought Hawke would be, the refugee just sounded like she was intrigued by Merrill's answer and even took a step forward so that she could sit beside Merrill on the girl's bench. "Why do you think blood magic would help?"

Anders looked between them both, a look of horror on his face. "Are you serious Hawke? You're actually listening to this? Blood magic is evil! If that's how you manage to get the book to work then doesn't that tell you anything?" He tried to pry away Hawke's attention from Merrill with a wave of his hands; his anger starting to make his movements more and more quicker.

Hawke merely glanced up at him once before ignoring the healer completely, eyes focused on Merrill entirely. "What were you saying Merrill? Why do you think blood magic will help?"

Merrill gulped under Ander's gaze, shuffling closer to Hawke and answering confidently when Hawke's small encouraging smile reached her eyes. "Well sometimes the blood may call to the presence inside the object and it'll make up its own mind if it decides to show you or not what it knows."

"Or if the demon decides you're a tasty enough morsel…" Anders muttered sarcastically, avoiding Hawke's eyes when the apostate turned her head to glare at him. "If you're stupid enough to do such a thing that is."

Hawke cleared her throat loudly just when Merrill was about to open her mouth to argue, eyeing the book that still lay on Merrill's table with unease. "I'll think about what my options are before deciding what to do with the book. Thanks again for at least trying to help me decipher it."

Anders exhaled noisily and pinched the bridge of his nose, turning away from Hawke with a sigh. "I really hope you know what you're doing Hawke. Blood magic isn't the only way if something doesn't go right."

He turned to glare at Merrill, eyes narrowed with an irritable glint to them. "Your methods shouldn't be one that mages turn to when backed into a corner. We're stronger than that! We don't have to fall to blood magic just to get what we want!"

"Anders!" Hawke said abruptly, grabbing the healer's shoulder and tugging Anders around until he was facing her icy eyes with no hope of escape. "Calm down or so help me I _will_ punch you senseless."

When Anders looked up at her (a vacant expression on his face, resembling a person who has only just woken up from a dream) Hawke's grip on his shoulders tightened and soon enough the mage witnessed another small - if not strained - smile from the apostate.

Isabela found it quite unfair how everyone else got a smile (even if it was a strained smile) and she got nothing but Hawke being broody with her. How _ridiculous_. She was far more attractive than Anders - even she needed a smile now and then from Hawke's miserable self!

"I'm not going to turn to blood magic Anders," Hawke said fairly evenly despite the expression on her face, releasing her grip of Ander's shoulders and scowling at the healer when he started to protest. "I know the dangers! If it makes you feel any better I'll burn the book when I get back to Gamlen's! Until then I think it's best that you and Merrill wait outside while I collect my stuff."

In reply Anders nodded numbly, looking dizzy and terrified at the reaction that Justice had stirred in him without realizing so, moving slowly towards Merrill's door that led to the Alienage - a haunted look making his face look more sharp and gaunt.

Isabela sort of felt sorry for him, being a possessed abomination that isn't allowed to get drunk can't be easy.

Merrill followed as soon as Hawke turned her back on her, looking fairly put out at the prospect of being alone with a shaken, confused yet angry Anders who was more than likely going to chew her out for her suggestion.

Isabela decided that she herself would leave after Hawke had left seeming as she really only came to Merrill's house to see how her Kitten was doing yet had got distracted by the meeting between the three mages; so all she'd have to do was wait for a while until Hawke decided to leave.

She watched as Hawke picked up the tome and turned it around in her hands, fingers skimming and sliding all over the leather until the apostate slammed it shut again and placed it in her satchel with a grunt - looking more unsure than Isabela had ever saw the apostate.

Hawke turned to place her staff in its place on her shoulder, adjusting the strap keeping it there with what looked like deliberate slowness - almost like Hawke was waiting for something, anything, to happen.

Isabela watched as Hawke waited for what felt like a whole five minutes, cursing the refugee silently when Hawke made no movement to move from her position where she stood and instead moved so that she was sitting once more on Merrill's bench with her head in her hands.

Isabela felt herself grow more and more annoyed at the amount of time Hawke was taking getting the hell out of Merrill's house because what did Hawke think she was doing? At this rate Anders and Merrill were more likely to think that Hawke had decided to throw every book in Merrill's house around than collect her belongings and essentials.

Then Hawke's head snapped up to glare directly at the little corner Isabela had hid in, blue eyes narrowing dangerously, her fingers curling so that the apostate could rest her chin on them and her lips twisting into a deep frown.

"Enjoyed that?" Hawke's whisper was rough and despite the frown that graced the refugee's face, she looked composed. "I'm sure that's enough gossip for you to spread with Varric - it'll earn you a few sovereigns for your ship that's for sure."

Isabela bit down hard on her lip, pressing herself further into the dark corner of Merrill's house with her heart beating rapidly at being caught.

When Isabela refused to answer, Hawke growled and stood up from where she was sitting, glaring straight at where Isabela stood. "Get out from that corner Isabela, I know you're there."

Isabela sighed and pushed herself away from where she was hiding, idly playing with the fabric of the scarf that was wrapped around her waist.

"Hawke, Hawke, Hawke…" Isabela tutted with a playful shake of her head, releasing the fabric she was playing with and grinning up at the apostate. "Me? A gossip? Do I need to keep reminding you that your dirty little secret is safe with me?"

Hawke scoffed at her with her usual disgust, dark hair hiding her right eye away from Isabela's amber orbs. "I don't have a dirty secret."

"Blood is rather dirty actually." Isabela teased with a smile, knowing it'd do nothing but rile Hawke up even more. "I still have some old blood stains on these boots that just _won't_ come out!"

Isabela had thought Hawke would just become cross at her, in it's place Hawke looked unsettled and her eyes averted upwards to Merrill's ceiling like she was trying to avoid Isabela's face altogether.

Isabela grinned at the look, unsheathing her new dagger that she had found through her ventures with Hawke and using the tip of it to open the refugee's satchel where the tome's black leather cover glared up at her. "Oh look what we have here…"

She grabbed the tome with her free hand, turning it in her hand and flicking through the pages with the tip of her dagger; chuckling mischievously at the empty pages that were speckled with old blood at the corner of each page.

Isabela slammed it close and carefully arranged it so that it slid into Hawke's satchel easily, smirking triumphantly when Hawke finally let her eyes lower to stare at her; the usual icy eyes shining with blue fire.

"Done?" Hawke muttered throatily, her Fereldan accent becoming more profound by the second.

Isabela shook her head and moved to fold over the flap that sealed Hawke's satchel shut yet when she was just about to fold it over a gasp escaped her at the tight grip around her wrist; soon finding herself pressed up against Merrill's door with Hawke's fingers wrapped firmly around both of her wrists.

Hawke looked rather composed too, though Isabela found it somewhat amusing that Hawke was able to do such a thing considering how flaming short the apostate was.

"Drop the knife!" Hawke ordered, suspiciously eyeing the dagger that Isabela held in her left hand.

"Dagger." Isabela found herself correcting with an urge to laugh out loud. "Though I do suppose you could call it a knife…"

Hawke gave her a pointed look, causing Isabela to sigh and drop it with a chuckle - knowing that she could get out of Hawke's grip if she wanted to but right now? She was interested in what Hawke would do.

"What do you want from me Isabela?" Hawke said gruffly, stepping on the dagger that Isabela had let drop to the ground. "I know how large your mouth is, what do you want from me that will keep it shut?"

Isabela feigned a thoughtful expression, pouting out her lips and smacking them together to fill the silence that had managed to sneak its way into their encounter after a few moments of Hawke staring angrily at her.

"Well you could be nicer…" Isabela started with a mischievous smile worming its way onto her lips once she let her eyes linger past Hawke's collarbone. "Though now I think about it you _are_ rather close to me and you _are_ pressing up against me in all the right places too!"

Hawke jumped away from her immediately with her face turned away from her almost on instinct, hiding her expression away from Isabela with a grunt and a curse that sounded all too familiar to the pirate.

Unable to keep the smirk off her face, Isabela bent down to retrieve her dagger with another little laugh - that laugh fading when she met Hawke's eyes and saw that Hawke's teeth was bared in a way that reminded Isabela of a time when she duelled a Antivan handmaiden who had managed to sneak her way onto her boat to steal her bandana as a present for the Antivan Queen and the only thing she could do was poke at her and bare her teeth.

Good times.

"Give me your boots." Hawke snarled as she rearranged a lock of hair to fit behind her ear, using her free hand to gesture at Isabela's feet.

Isabela glanced down at her boots for a moment before looking up at the apostate questioningly. "Pardon?"

Hawke glared at her with steely eyes of cerulean flames, teeth still bared in that animalistic way that Isabela had grown somewhat fond of. "Don't make me repeat myself Isabela. Give me them."

Isabela didn't allow herself to budge one instant for Hawke, allowing herself a bemused laugh and perplexed expression to cross her face. "Andraste's ass Hawke, what are you talking about?"

When Hawke moved to kneel in front of her Isabela threw her head back to laugh gleefully up at the holes in Merrill's ceiling. "Don't you think that's a bit too forward?"

Hawke's head was bowed so she couldn't tell exactly what the apostate looked like, but Isabela had a pretty good idea (and imagination) on how Hawke's face was looking at the moment.

"Oh who cares? Go ahead!" Isabela found herself cackling wickedly even as she allowed Hawke to slip off her boots, leaning further back against Merrill's door smugly. "But those are the only bloody boots I have left you know?"

Hawke returned from her kneeling position with Isabela's boots in hand, an odd but familiar strained smile on her lips. "If Merrill and Fenris can manage without boots then I'm sure you'll be perfectly fine Isabela."

Isabela clicked her tongue and tilted her head to the side, shooting Hawke a cocky slip of her tongue before returning the organ behind her lips.

"What? You disapprove now?" Hawke muttered with a roll of her eyes, shoving Isabela's boots under her arm. "I'm being _nice_ to you."

Isabela let her eyes scan Hawke's tight, strained (stiff) expression with scepticism because not only did that stupid smile look ridiculous on Hawke but it was also making her fondness for the refugee dim quite a bit.

"And what are you planning to do with my boots?"

Isabela was sure Hawke was trying hard not to throw the boots at her by how hard Hawke's fingers were wrapped around the leather - so in return Isabela just tapped her own cheek playfully.

"Isn't that obvious?" Hawke said in a bored tone, grasping the leather boots in her hand and flailing it around in front of her face. "I'm going to clean them for you. Because I'm being _nice_ just like you requested…"

Isabela snorted. "So you're being nice to me just so I keep my mouth shut about your blood magic ways?"

Hawke glared moodily at her; resembling (in Isabela's opinion) a woman who had just been kicked too many times and realizing that the only way to stop being kicked was to fight back. "I'm not using blood magic."

"So that whole conversation didn't happen, right?" Isabela said slowly, arching a brow humorously when Hawke merely sighed at her. "All of it was a figment of my wild imagination?"

"I'm off home to burn the book!" Hawke retorted with a growl, shoving the boots in her hand straight into Isabela's chest - causing the pirate to stumble slightly. "Now if you don't mind, I'll be on my way!"

Isabela felt Hawke's hands grab her arm to move her away from Merrill's door, allowing the apostate to storm out of it.

"Are you still trying to be nice?" Isabela called after her, giving a wink to the shocked Merrill who had just noticed that she was in her home. "Because I don't think you're doing very well with it!"

* * *

"W-what? Where are your boots?"

Isabela looked up from the book she was reading to see that none other but Carver Hawke was staring down at her, a look of complete confusion over his face.

A smile crossed her face as she wriggled her toes. "My boots? Haven't you been home yet?"

Carver gave her a disapproving look as he sat down next to a sleeping Merrill who had rested her head on the table barrel she and Isabela had been sitting at. "What happened to Merrill?"

Isabela waved her hand at the youngest Hawke, returning to her book. "Don't bother asking, she thought I was turning into an elf with my lack of boots."

Varric joined them at the table then with two mugs of ale in his hands, plonking them both down and yanking the second away when Carver reached over to grab it.

"Ah, ah Junior!" Isabela watched Varric tease with a smirk, chuckling to herself when Varric passed her the second mug. "If you expect ale before you order you'll get nowhere in life!"

"Spoken like a true leader of men!" Isabela faked a sniffle, caressing the dry skin at the corners of her eyes.

With a laugh escaping them both, Isabela raised her mug to let Varric's own clink against it before bringing the clay mug up to her mouth and allowing the ale to trickle down her throat.

"You two are disgusting…" Carver murmured with a shake of his head, looking more and more disturbed each time Isabela teased him with her smile.

Isabela wriggled her toes again when a draft sifted its way into the Hanged Man, amber eyes looking up to see that Aveline had come in through the door with an unusual friendly smile on her face - it being unusual because of the fact that said smile was being directed at _her_.

"So they're your boots are they?" Is the first thing Aveline says to her once she's managed to climb over the same drunks that always fell onto the floor at the same time of day. "Hawke's been scrubbing at them for over an hour now. What in Maker's name did you manage to get on them?"

Isabela opened her mouth to answer.

"No never mind I'm not sure I want to know," Aveline interrupted hastily, placing herself next to Varric with a shake of her head. "Surprisingly Hawke's oddly happy about the whole thing; says it's keeping her mind off things."

Isabela feigned disinterest at the Guards Captain's words, bringing up her mug to examine it despite having knowledge it was empty.

"To be perfectly honest I hope she hurries up because Maker's breath Isabela…" Aveline said with a huff, pushing Isabela's feet away from her when the pirate placed her feet on the stool next to the Guards Captain. "Your feet are worse than Carver's ale-breath."

Isabela stuck her tongue out at Lady Man-Hands, returning to her book with interest as a certain page caught her eye.

"Ooh…" She started with a low hum and a click of her tongue, drawing everyone's attention at the table towards her. "_My Guards Captain and Her Large Sword: A Love Story._ My, my Varric when did you write this?"

Aveline glared at her and without a moment of hesitation; threw Varric's full mug of ale at her.

* * *

Hawke examined the tome's pages once more with a frown marring her features, stroking her chin thoughtfully at the images that flooded her head; images that disturbed her greatly.

Isabela's boots lay at her feet, shining to perfection like Hawke had planned them to and the soft light that shone off the leather made Hawke glance down to see her reflection in them.

She unsheathed one of her spare knives that was strapped to her thigh, examining it and letting it rest on the palm of her right hand - weighing it and studying the blade with unusual curiosity.

She shuddered as another image thundered its way through her head, said image making herself wonder if she'd ever be able to do such a thing as her mind was suggesting.

Hawke clutched down harder onto the metal, feeling it slice open her skin of her palm until her hand got swallowed up in a crimson ink that made her head lurch throb as all of a sudden an almighty force of power washed over; her own blood calling her like a siren.

"No!" She threw the knife away from her and let the tome fall to her feet, rushing over to look under her cot for some cloth she had hidden away so she could wrap her hand up.

Her blood and the tome itself had called to her the moment she had slit her palm and the power that had surged through her was something that terrified her greatly - not at how much power it contained but how much she found herself embracing such power the moment it had called to her.

The only thing that had kept her from taking on such power was that quick flow of willpower and Ander's voice warning her of the consequences of such power; power that was only inherited by the use of blood. Blood magic.

She stared down at the tome as she wrapped her hand up, anger starting to make her vision blurry.

Just when Hawke was about to pick the tome up something stopped her, a feeling at the back of her mind that forced her to stop and stumble back into her cot with cold sweat marring her forehead.

Hawke tried to reach over to pick the tome up once more but let her hand retreat when a thought crossed her mind.

She'd burn the tome tomorrow. Something about it was making her go crazy and if this was what she was going to be like from now on then she'd have to get rid of it as soon as possible.

Then she could stop being nice to Isabela too.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"You're fond of that pirate slut aren't you?"

Hawke rolled her eyes as she continued to pack her things into a sack, glad that her back was to her Uncle so he couldn't see the anger in her eyes.

"You're drunk Uncle, go _away_." She muttered angrily, flicking through another tome that she had been reading to distract herself away from the tome that no matter how hard she tried to destroy it, it found a way into her possession once more.

Hawke had tried burning it more than once but each time she felt herself get the willpower to throw the tome into the flames of her fire she felt hesitation creep into the back of her mind, such hesitation making her place the tome down and for her fingers to flick through the blank pages once more.

Even now as she packed she couldn't help but let her eyes settle down to the dusty tome that lay at the end of her cot, admiring the glossy black leather and the power that was promised in the grimy pages of blood and magic.

It was a temptation that was starting to call to her whenever she opened her eyes to stare at the tome, the power she had felt from her blood a few weeks ago starting to drive her crazy at how much she lusted for it - for something that had felt so good and so dangerous at the same it had sparked an adrenaline rush inside her.

"Not drunk girl, just pleasant!" Gamlen slurred words was enough to break Hawke away from the calling of the tome, allowing her to breathe deeply to clear her senses before she turned to address her uncle with a glower she usually saved for Isabela.

"Well if you don't mind I would prefer you to piss off," Hawke said with a dangerous growl, narrowing her eyes when her uncle stumbled into hers and Carver's room with the aura of a drunk man who thought he could still talk and walk at the same time. "Otherwise you might wake Mother up if you haven't already!"

When Gamlen stumbled over to her in an attempt to give her a drunken one-armed hug, Hawke let her fist push away at her uncle's shoulder with a glare so fierce that Gamlen hiccupped and stopped what he was doing to stare idiotically at her.

"For Maker's sake man! Go lie down before you make a fool of yourself!" Hawke ordered, turning her back on her uncle to reattempt her packing - choosing to ignore Gamlen's grumbles.

Just when it looked like Gamlen had finally left her alone to pack, her uncle's screeching voice suddenly filled the room. "You didn't answer my question girl!"

Hawke bit back a snarl, instead grasped onto the thin sheets that lay over her cot - counting to ten before composing herself enough that wouldn't be worked up enough to spit fire in Gamlen's face.

"What question?" Hawke said with feigned innocence, refusing to turn back to face her uncle in case she found a heavy object that looked suitable enough to force down Gamlen's throat.

Gamlen stumbled again and ended up sitting down on the floor with his chin resting on top of his knees; though the snide smile still hadn't left his face by the time Hawke let herself look over her shoulder in curiosity at the loud bang that accompanied her uncle's fall.

"That pirate slut! You're fond of her eh? Saw you waxing and rubbing those boots! Hah!" Gamlen bellowed with a fierce laugh that shook his entire body. "Bet you were wishing that you were rubbing something else weren't ya? Good on you my girl! Don't want anymore of that filthy magic blood of yours in our family now eh?"

Hawke didn't exactly understand why but at the mention of both Isabela's 'pet name' that everyone had adopted for her - including Gamlen apparently - and her filthy magic blood, she found herself becoming more and more furious and her stomach curled together viciously like she had been punched.

"I'm not fond of anyone." Hawke said with a strained calm tone that of course she knew Gamlen wouldn't notice (but would any drunk?) even if it slapped him right in the face.

"Of course you aren't, you've got that chip on your shoulder ain't ya?" Gamlen retorted with another hiccup that signalled to Hawke that sooner or later her uncle would pass out as he did whenever he started hiccupping repeatedly. "Don't care about nobody, don't let anyone get close to ya, good on ya my girl! That's the way to live! Grab some whores and coin and you'll be living the life of everyone's fantasies!"

Hawke stopped what she was packing away in her sack, feeling Gamlen's words surge through her like a hurricane that made her fingers tremble and for her head to spin wildly with the familiarity of the power that had washed over her when she had cut her palm.

"You're wrong Uncle," Hawke managed to force the words past her lips, shaking her head violently to get rid of the thrall of Gamlen's powerful words out of her. "There _are_ some things that are better than whores and money."

"Oh Maker no girl! Don't start seeing reason now!" Gamlen chuckled dryly with his head in between his knees, shaking with his laughter. "Get outside! Your mother's waiting to give you something!"

Hawke felt herself shrug sluggishly at her uncle's words, tying the thin rope around her sack into tight knots to keep her hands busy and her mind adrift from every single mindless thought that seemed to taunt her with either power or passion she had only just started feeling a few moments ago.

Though she was pretty sure Mother had been asleep when she had started to pack after Carver left to go down to the Alienage with Merrill, she had even heard light snores coming from the other room about half an hour ago; though Mother had always been a light-sleeper and it really wouldn't surprise her if Gamlen's drunkard-self had managed to wake her mother up.

Hawke gave one last look of disdain at the tome at the end of her cot before turning away with a pained hiss, the tome's call strong enough that it felt like the lids of her eyes were on fire.

"Goodbye Uncle." Hawke said hurriedly with her head bowed, moving around Gamlen with her sack of possessions clutched tightly in one hand whilst the other held her staff that she quickly strapped over her shoulder - fingers still trembling almost unnoticeably despite how disturbed Hawke felt at that moment.

With a huge intake of breath Hawke opened the door to Lowtown's unusually quiet streets, allowing the fresh air to overtake her and mould around her into the perfect shield away from the sickening thoughts that had had started to twist and curl her dreams.

"Darling?"

Hawke gasped quietly at her mother's voice; spinning around on the spot to see that her mother was staring at her with a look of concern in her eyes and her pale, wrinkled hands were wrapped firmly around a dark-red fabric that Hawke had never seen before.

"Mother!" She tried quickly to compose herself in front of her mother, forcing herself to stand up straight and look ahead and silently hope that the cold wind would be enough to cool her cheeks down.

"You shouldn't be out here alone Mother," Hawke growled out after a few seconds of wondering why Gamlen had allowed her mother to wait for her outside, feeling more and more aggravated when she noticed a particular layabout that had stolen her coin once in Hightown.

Hawke's jaw tightened and she wrapped her fingers around the bone of her mother's shoulder, pushing gently to try and coax her mother inside. "Come inside the house or you'll be robbed before tomorrow!"

Hawke knew she wasn't as strong as the other companions but not being able to guide her mother back into her home? She felt just a tiny bit put-out by the whole thing along with the curiosity on why all of a sudden her mother didn't want to move.

In fact just when Hawke was going to push a little bit harder so that she'd finally be able to get her mother out of the cold, said mother turned to cup her cheek and stroke it soothingly - happy tears making her mother's eyes appear glossy in the night sky.

"Mother?" Hawke wasn't one to show comfort not because she didn't want to, it was just that she had never been good at it even when she was a young girl.

Bethany once had a pet rabbit named Squirrel (a name that still bewildered Hawke to this very day) who her little sister had loved, adored even, and had cherished it like her very little own piece of magic that no templar could take away from her; something that Bethany could call truly hers.

One day it had got snared in a hunter's trap that both her and Carver had come along when doing jobs for the sisters in the Chantry, the fur ripped off its carcass and the ears bruised and torn off in the most grizzly way.

Carver had told her that they should pretend it had never happened. Hawke on the other hand, didn't believe that lying to Bethany was the best way for her sister to find out that her favourite rabbit Squirrel had been - for lack of better words - _brutally murdered_.

Bethany had cried for weeks, Carver didn't talk to her for months, Father and Mother had given her the disappointed look each day Hawke allowed Bethany to cry alone and all Hawke had managed to say to her younger sister was 'sorry'.

And an awkward hug. Just because Mother had told her to do so.

So she wasn't at all surprised when she found out that her arms couldn't move when her mother pulled her in for a hug, rubbing her wet eyes on her padded armour and sniffing violently when Hawke pulled away with shock crossing her face.

Mother smiled at her again through watery eyes, handing her the dark-red fabric that she had been holding. "Your father would have wanted you to have these darling. When you were old enough for great things such as this expedition."

Hawke felt her mother pat her on the shoulder softly (hesitantly) with a look on her face that made Hawke gulp slightly in anxiety.

She nodded her thanks, not quite sure what to do with her new possession that had belonged to her father apart from putting it on just before they went into the Deep Roads.

But that would mean wasting time and she truly wanted to escape the stink of Lowtown before Carver could come back and notice she was gone.

"I must go Mother but…" Hawke felt herself tense up just before she leant down to peck her mother on the cheek, still unsure on why she felt like she was crawling out of her own skin at the touch of her Mother despite knowing that she loved her mother very, very much.

She placed the dark fabric back into her Mother's hands, folding the old wrinkled fingers closed with her own digits - glaring down at the ground to hide her expression.

"Keep it Mother," she moved away before her mother could pull her into a hug; turning her back to jog down the stairs of the shared shack where she stood at the bottom with her muscles tensed as a cold kiss of wind brushed against her skin. "I'm not ready for it. Not yet."

She had to keep moving, no looking back or hesitating because she knew that if she even thought about doing that then she'd lose whatever willpower she had left and slump back into her shack to wait for Carver, to take him with her like he truly deserved.

But she already had lost one sibling. Her dear sweet little sister Bethany; the girl who had looked up to her yet had feared at how much she relied on her magic - always telling her that without magic she could be normal. Like Carver.

Hawke was determined not to lose another and so set off around the corner of her home with Fergus already at her side, barking excitedly which she managed to silence with a scowl.

Alerting Carver of her presence around Lowtown was not something she wanted to be faced with even if she had a thousand mabari war hounds with her; her brother's glare and yells could do mighty damage on their own.

The walk through Lowtown market was short and uneventful (despite how many times Hawke looked over her shoulder each time she heard a squeak of a mouse of the scuffle of boots) and Hawke truly thought that she'd be able to get away from Lowtown without encountering anyone. Right until she heard Fergus bark excitedly and head off towards a figure in the distance, yapping his head off and ignoring her yells for him to shut up.

She recognized the figure however and bit back a groan.

* * *

Isabela sighed at the cramped conditions she was in inside the cart that was slowly making its way through the countryside of Kirkwall towards a secret entrance into the Deep Roads that Anders had marked on the expedition's map.

Hawke was glaring at her mabari war hound with a face like thunder, looking every bit like the icy woman Isabela had guessed Hawke to the be the first time she had laid eyes on her - and also when the first thing Hawke said was an ever defiant 'back off' at Isabela's rather splendid (in her opinion) advice.

The silence was eerie and uncomfortable, only being filled by the harsh rain against the cart's protective sheet and Varric's snores as the night went on; casting a bright strip of bright light against them all in the back of the cart that made Hawke's already pale skin look like it was marble.

Isabela slumped even further from her original position, amber eyes closing wearily as sleep threatened to overtake her just like it had Varric; feeling herself grow numb to the cold as her eyes started to close…

"Say something." Hawke's voice crashed through her ears a few moments afterwards, the reaction being that Isabela slowly let her eyelids open to stare back at Hawke's vacant expression.

"Like what sweetness?" Isabela yawned with a roll of her eyes, grabbing Hawke's sack and placing it under her head so she could use it as a pillow.

Hawke just stared expressionlessly at her, lips parted and swollen due to the punch in the face Bartrand had given her for being late - it wasn't what Isabela would call a good punch, a sloppy one maybe but it didn't look half as bad as Bartrand's when Hawke had reacted with her own punch.

Isabela watched as Hawke wet her lips nervously, glancing to the side to see that Fenris was asleep before answering with her eyes locked onto the wood of the cart. "I'm not sure. Something convincing I guess."

Isabela snorted loudly, rearranging Hawke's sack behind her head and leaning down into the softness of it. "If you don't sleep now you'll end up with bags so large under your eyes I'll stop wanting to sleep with you."

Hawke arched a disbelieving brow at her, a small uncommon smile tugging at her lips.

Isabela met the refugee's smile with her trademark cocky grin, turning her back on Hawke. "Just shitting you Birdy."

"Figured." Hawke responded with dry humour lacing her words, shuffling herself into a more comfortable position against the side of Fenris and a large sack of clothes that was perched up beside her.

Isabela watched the refugee's shadow in the strip of moonlight, smirking as the apostate slowly started to unbuckle the leather gauntlet on her right arm and bring said arm up to examine carefully.

"What happened to it?" Isabela asked out of nowhere, only realizing a few moments before that Hawke had said arm wrapped up in bandages and cloth that went up to her shoulder.

"Fergus jumped up me and knocked me into the armoury at the barracks," Hawke said quickly without missing a beat - such confidence causing Isabela to turn her head at the apostate with a quirk of her lips.

"And what? You managed to land your ass on your arm?" Isabela laughed wickedly, allowing herself to bathe in Hawke's scowl with delight.

Instead of giving into the temptation of snapping back like Isabela had hoped Hawke would, the refugee sighed and changed the subject. "Whatever happens in the Deep Roads…"

Isabela scoffed and turned away from Hawke once more. "Shit Hawke, don't go soft on me now. I prefer you when you're broody and angry, it makes you that much more attractive!"

She heard Hawke grunt behind her before she allowed herself to drop off to sleep; Hawke's shadow being the last thing she saw that night.

* * *

Hawke exhaled calmly as she entered another tunnel of the Deep Roads, feeling more and more nervous every step she took away from Bartrand's camp to try and locate a way around the collapsed area of the Deep Roads.

Even Isabela wasn't talking that much, and that was something that made Hawke feel even more uneasy than she had felt before - she was so uneasy that she was tempted to yell at the Rivaini pirate to make her talk but honestly she didn't really feel like getting into a fight at this certain time and place.

Fergus sniffed at her hand as she walked, licking the cut that was etched deep into her palm - healing it with his tongue and saliva that may feel odd against her skin but was a comforting gesture coming from her mabari.

The silence was broken by an undignified groan coming from the elf next to Hawke, turning to see that Fenris was looking at his foot in disgust - eyes narrowed and lips pursed in repulsion at what looked like to be darkspawn piss on the soles of his feet.

Both Varric and Isabela broke out into loud peals of laughter, which of course made Fergus bark in excitement; filling the vast tunnels of the Deep Roads with loud barking and laughter that made Hawke sigh into her hands.

"Quiet!" Fenris commanded after a few more moments of Fergus, Varric and Isabela chortling at him. "You will all wake the dead in here with your racket! Silence!"

Hawke glared at the laughing duo behind her shoulder, catching Isabela's eyes with her icy ones; hoping that they'd be enough to intimidate Isabela to shut her trap enough that they'd be able to get through the Deep Roads without much noise to distract them from the battlefield.

Immediately they all fell silent, but not before Isabela sent a wink in Hawke's general direction - the reaction being that Hawke stomped further away from the group; lower lip bitten to shreds in nerves.

This Deep Roads was driving her insane with its deceitful ability of making her want things she normally wouldn't; like Isabela talking for example. Never had she wanted the pirate to talk more, yet her damn pride made herself remain silent in hope that Isabela would create a conversation by herself. She was a smart girl after all, Hawke didn't need to create conversations for her.

Hawke didn't have to wait long because as soon as silence fell on the group once more, a clicking noise that sounded suspiciously like someone's tongue made her fingers twitch slightly at the little irritable noise that was truly only irritable because it was more than likely coming from Isabela.

She stopped again to look over her shoulder, not shocked to see that the clicking noise had immediately stopped when she did so and she instead was greeted with her three companions staring at her with mixed expressions on each of their faces.

Hawke growled and adjusted her leather gauntlet, continuing on her way through the twisting and turning tunnels in the Deep Roads; annoyed at the clicking noise that had once more started again.

Hawke was just about to spin round to deck the Rivaini pirate when she caught sight of a passage down a flight of stairs where she could just about see a flicker of light coming from the bottom, the sight enough to make her stop and hold up a hand.

"I think we've found a way past the wreckage," Hawke told her companions quietly before descending down the stairs, Fenris hot on her heels.

Isabela met Varric's eyes with a smirk. "How much do you want to bet we meet something that is entirely gruesome in there?"

Varric chuckled and flicked up a silver from his jacket's pocket. "The odds against that happening Rivaini are completely numbered."

* * *

After managing to find a way past the wreckage (along with fighting darkspawn, spiders and dragons), fetching Bartrand and telling him where the location was, the group were finally making their way up to the location with the rest of the expedition's group; all four of them thoroughly exhausted.

Isabela yawned and clicked her tongue again for good measure, moving closer to Fenris when Hawke sent her a scathing look from over her shoulder.

Isabela watched Hawke's back intently as she walked side-by-side with Fenris, allowing her hip to bump into the elf's own with a flirty smirk crossing her face each time Fenris looked up at her in bemusement.

"What are you doing to my hips?" Fenris murmured after a few more times of Isabela taunting him with her swaying hips, looking both extremely embarrassed and curious at Isabela's actions.

Isabela laughed sharply at the emerald green eyes that were full of confusion, using a finger to flick the tip of Fenris's ear with a devious grin. "Don't you know when someone's flirting with you?"

Hawke's stare bore into her the moment Isabela tilted her head up to regard the apostate with a smug grin, chuckling with glee at Hawke's puzzled expression that quickly had turned into something that Isabela couldn't quite put her finger on though she guessed that Hawke was probably angry with her again.

What a surprise, eh?

Fenris just shuffled uncomfortably under her gaze, looking around for help and gulping slightly when he received nothing but a cold glare from Hawke and a dry chuckle from Varric. "I am…Flattered."

Isabela feigned a dramatic sigh and rubbed her arms to try and beat away the cold that had started to cling to her skin, distantly wondering why she was cold in such a dark, dismal place anyway.

She allowed her amber eyes to roam towards Fenris again, surprised to find that the elf was staring at her anyway with a frown. "You are cold?"

Isabela nodded in response, huddling in to Fenris's side despite knowing that the elf was not one to give her any source of warmth anyhow with the markings on his skin. "I bloody well am and believe me, I'm not the cuddle type."

Fenris looked amused at that, an unusual smirk gracing his face. "Would you prefer Hawke's cloak instead?"

Isabela laughed mischievously at Fenris's unintended suggestion, grinning over at Hawke whose fingers had curled into fists and the way her back was tensed underneath the padded armour showed the pirate that Hawke was getting seriously annoyed.

But still it was far too much fun to exploit Hawke's annoyance rather than dampen it, it was just how her rules worked.

"It depends, will you let me sleep next to you? I asked Hawke but she already said no." Isabela hadn't actually asked the apostate but she really didn't have to considering the way Hawke reacted every time she suggested such a thing.

At Fenris's surprised look Isabela gestured to the vast corridor around her, grinning like mad. "There could be a draft! I might get cold!"

Before Fenris could answer he was cut off by a low chuckle from Varric, coming in between both of them with his head held high. "Alright lovebirds, let's focus on setting up camp before Hawke explodes!"

Isabela arched a brow at the dwarf, resting a hand on her hip. "You're acting strange today, sure it's not the taint getting to you my own Paragon of Manliness?"

Varric shrugged with a slight smile but Isabela managed to catch the way his eyes drifted over Hawke's tensed back with unease; arching her other brow when she managed to catch his eyes with her own soon after. "Well? What's wrong?"

"Nothing _Rivaini!_" Varric said hastily, his smile almost painful enough that Isabela laughed at the unusual expression on her friend's face. "Just think we should focus! Besides, you don't want to stay in here any longer than necessary do you? You're claustrophobic! The irony of it all, eh?"

She inwardly cringed at the mention of it, already feeling the walls around her start to close in each time she allowed her eyes to linger in a dark corner of the Deep Roads. "Thanks for mentioning it."

Varric winked but put a reassuring arm around her waist. "Don't sweat it Rivaini! And by my Ancestors, I hate that phrase!"

Hawke snorted in front of the group but before any of them could comment their leader was far ahead of the group, speaking softly to Bartrand with an bizarre concerned look.

Isabela watched closely with her arms crossed against her chest, breathing in shallow breaths to try and block out the alluding thoughts of the rocky walls closing in on her; thinking of happier times that would allow her to escape from the nightmare of what surrounded her.

There was a time when she had been surrounded by Antivan Crows on her way to escape the Blight, them demanding on where a certain Antivan Assassin was considering she had been one of his contacts when he was in the Crows; of course she had knew where Zevran was but this was the man who had saved her from her good-for-nothing husband. She owed him more than a life. She owed him a lifetime.

So she had jumped into the sea and had swam behind her ship with a dead eel skin over her head, waiting patiently until the Crows left before boarding The Siren's Call once more and sailing away.

And then there was that other time when she had 'met' the Hero of Ferelden and allowed herself to be propositioned by the redheaded Warden, who in return had got a scathing look off her redheaded lover along with a quick swipe to the back of her head.

It turned out Wicked Grace was better than sex anyway, but still it was a shame because two redheads in one bed? Isabela knew she would of died happily if somehow a passing bronto decided to charge in the room and kill her by suffocating her with its massive ass in her face.

Her amusing thoughts were interrupted when Bartrand appeared in front of her, stroking his beard with a glare on his face; said glare directed at Isabela.

The dwarf pointed at the very front of the group where Hawke was with the rest of the expedition workers, his glare deepening when Isabela looked down at him in confusion.

"Ms Frumpy McGrumpy wants you at the front with her," Bartrand growled out to her with his hands still pulling and pinching at his braided beard, dark eyes so cold that Isabela felt a shiver run down her spine slightly when Bartrand made a move towards her. "Blessed Ancestors only knows what she wants with you! Moaning about you like dog around a bitch in heat! Get over to her before she starts stripping naked in front of the workers!"

Varric laughed aloud at his brother. "I doubt Hawke would strip in front of these sleazy workers brother! Never mind the Deep Roads!"

Isabela however was completely amused by the whole thing, allowing her lips to curl into a smile before parting so she could whistle towards the sullen refugee. "Hey Hawke! Bartrand said you're going to strip naked and you want me to come see first hand! Are you sure you want me there?"

Hawke turned an uncharacteristic beet red, finally showing something that allowed Isabela to see that she had managed to get under the apostate's skin. "Just get to the front you _filthy_ pirate!"

Isabela laughed gleefully and made her way past the expedition workers until she was safely at the front with both Hawke and Fergus, surprised to see that Hawke was still bright red and that the apostate was glaring down at her boots like they held the answer to EVERYTHING.

"You know if you don't look up you'll end up being smashed right in the face by some hazardous object." Isabela quipped with a sway of hips, bumping into Hawke's own with a smirk. "And then you'll end up being a blood splatter of spit and feathers! Hah! _Feathers!_"

Hawke removed the glare from her boots and instead directed it at Isabela, causing the pirate to gasp out another laugh.

"Well, I thought it was funny!" Isabela chuckled quietly to herself when Hawke's glare didn't budge even a tiny bit.

Isabela sighed at the look, really was she ever going to get a break around Hawke without ending up with Hawke glaring and storming off? While the chase had been somewhat fun, it was getting a tad bit boring.

"Are you…" Hawke started all of a sudden, surprising Isabela with how soft and apprehensive the other woman sounded. "Are you alright? I didn't realise that the Deep Roads would be an uncomfortable place for you."

"Pft! Hawke! Is that…_concern?_" Isabela couldn't help herself when it came to Hawke because it was so damn strange to see Hawke show something that resembled worry for her, of all people. "Because I swear it sounds like concern."

"You really can't take it can you? I'm starting to think you like me snapping at you!" Hawke growled out at her, running her own hand through her hair and stumbling slightly over an uneven part of the Deep Roads; only managing to stand up straight when Isabela caught her shoulder and pushed her back up.

Isabela blinked slowly when Hawke moved away from her with another growl, acting as though her mere touch had burned her and the only source of comfort was to get as far as away from her as possible.

"So are you fine or not?" Hawke snapped at her a few moments later, the red flush on her face starting to become even more apparent by the flicker of torchlight behind them.

"Uh yes?" Isabela answered with a hesitance that she hated to use but she wasn't quite sure what to say to Hawke to try and put her at ease; Hawke was on the edge after all and she figured it was her problem to try and get the apostate to calm down. "Are you?"

Hawke groaned and raked her fingers down her sweaty face, shaking her head quickly enough that Isabela thought it was going to roll off the apostate's shoulders. "No, I'm not alright. I feel like I'm in a hot bath."

Isabela chuckled underneath her breath, reaching for the skin of water strapped to her waist and handing it to the flustered apostate. "Here before you explode in a mess of blood and feathers."

Hawke took the skin of water slowly from her hand, so slow that it looked like the apostate was trying her hardest not to let their fingers brush together and Isabela allowed a smirk to cross her face once more when Hawke twisted the top off the skin to drink with an awkward expression.

"I'm going to scout ahead, you should stay at the front." Hawke murmured once she had finished wiping away the water from her lips. "It's…_wider_."

Before Isabela could begin to protest, Hawke had already moved on in front with Fergus at her heels; reminding the pirate even more and more of a dejected puppy dog.

* * *

"What aren't you telling me now?"

Varric wiped his hands down his dusty jacket, shaking his head at the Seeker with a sigh. "Seeker, why must you continue to doubt me? I'm telling nothing but the truth here."

"You know a ridiculous amount about the Champion's love life," Cassandra answered with a dark scowl. "Why must you continue to drag this story on? The Champion had a tome that I possess right here! Tell me what it does!"

Varric reached out to take the tome and flicked through the pages, sighing in exasperation when the pages turned out to be blank once more. "Does it matter what the tome does? It's done enough to Hawke to last a lifetime. Destroy it."

Cassandra glared down at him and studied the leather markings of the book carefully, wondering where she had seen such markings in her lifetime and why it had only just occurred to her.

"You tell me that Hawke already tried to destroy it and failed. Why do you think I could destroy it?"

Varric shrugged and tossed the book away from him, ignoring the way Cassandra hissed angrily at him when he did so. "Because you're not addicted to the damn thing like Hawke was. Destroy it Seeker or it'll drive you insane."

It obviously wasn't Varric's intent but at the information he had given to her, Cassandra found herself slowly growing more curious about the tome.

But still, she knew she shouldn't let herself linger on such things and instead changed the subject onto something different, something that she knew would pique Varric's interest.

"There is a rumour that one of the Champion's companions became a Grey Warden due to them catching the taint." She let her comment linger in the air for a second, studying Varric's eyes with her fiery hues before letting them close when Varric moved away from her gaze with a cough. "Is that true?"

Varric snorted and got up from his chair to walk around it before settling back down with his hands on his lap. "That's one shit rumour you got there Seeker! Heh! Even I couldn't come up with that!"

But Cassandra knew quite clearly when a dwarf such as Varric was lying. "So it's the truth then?"

Varric smiled and hooked his chin on top of his knuckles. "Partly."

She allowed a subtle smile to take over her face, turning her back on Varric and nodded; feeling oddly satisfied at hitting the nail on the head, so to speak.

"Interesting. Continue."

* * *

_I thank everyone for the kind reviews, they really make my week and bring a smile onto my face. =) Thanks again. Mia_ x.


End file.
